


Something From Nothing

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Dating, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Divorce, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Mentions of knotting, Movie AU, Road Trip, Top!Castiel, When Harry Met Sally AU, alpha!Castiel, bottom!Dean, mentions of mpreg, minor mentions of depression, more tags to come, omega!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can alphas and omegas be “just friends” without sex getting in the way? For Castiel and Dean, it begins with a 20-hour road trip and this question. Over the course of 10 years, their paths converge at random, shifting them from strangers, to acquaintances, to reluctant support systems. But where does friendship end and love begin? Based on the film "When Harry Met Sally"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- It had to be Dean

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've been planning for 6 months. "When Harry Met Sally" is one of my favorite movies and A/B/O is one of my favorite tropes, so combining the two felt like a no-brainer.
> 
> I will be updating tags as I go along. Please note, I won't be tagging all relationships in this fic, since there are a lot of them and most, aside from Dean/Cas and Sam/Gabriel, are inconsequential.
> 
> Updates will happen on Wednesdays.

**New Year's Eve 2014**

 

Castiel stands against a wall, looking out at a sea of strangers. Well, not entirely strangers. He can see Sam’s head sticking out above the crowd, Gabriel no doubt attached to his hip. Cas sighs and drains his glass of champagne.

He hates New Year’s Eve.

It’s not like other holidays, where there’s a sense of family or patriotism attached to it; New Year’s Eve only exists with the obligation to have fun. Everyone is trying so hard to have a good time and they are usually failing at that endeavor (that is unless they are three sheets to the wind, in which case everything in entertaining). New Year’s Eve smacks of desperation. It’s always treated as if it is the holiest of party days, but more often than not the end result is sitting on the couch, watching the ball drop on TV while in the wrong time zone. New Year’s Eve is the Las Vegas of holidays: Everyone talks about how much fun they are going to have, but it always ends with wasted money, stilted conversations, and bad selfies.

Castiel has never enjoyed it. In his 30-plus years, he has not had one enjoyable New Year’s… Well, that’s not entirely true.

Last year’s was fun, sneaking up to the roof with Dean, splitting a bottle of champagne between them and screaming classic rock songs into the sky at midnight. Dean had tried for hours to teach Castiel to whistle with two-fingers, but they had just dissolved into peals of laughter as Cas ended up drooling all over his hands. That had been a good New Year’s. Castiel wishes the rest of the year had been that good.

Things were different now, though.

All at once, the large room seems too crowded, the air too stuffy, Castiel’s suit too restricting. He spots the balcony on the other side of the space and immediately crosses the room to get to it, snagging two more glasses of champagne off a passing waiter.

He steps out onto the balcony, assaulted by the smell of smoke and ozone. Cigarette butts litter the patio, the ‘no smoking in the house’ rule no doubt Sam’s influence on Gabe. Castiel quickly chugs both glasses; frowning at the taste and remembering that he doesn’t actually _like_ champagne. He leans over the rail, gripping it tightly, enjoying the feeling of the icy metal numbing his fingers.

He just needs a few minutes to breathe and not… _think_ about anything. He lifts his head and looks out over the horizon, the city skyline lit up beautifully and casting a purple haze into the clear winter sky. Sam and Gabe’s new condo lies on the northern edge of the city, not downtown like Gabriel’s old apartment. Castiel can admit he likes it better, especially if this is the view that they get to enjoy every night.

He rubs his hands together, trying to regain feeling in his fingertips and glancing through the glass door to the party inside. He grimaces at the faces in the crowd with strained, gleeful smiles. Castiel is in no mood to enjoy himself tonight, he realizes.

He looks at his watch and checks the time. 11:58. He knows if he leaves, Sam and Gabe will give him hell about not staying until the New Year, but Castiel doesn’t think he can handle this much forced cheer right now.

He slips back through the patio door, warmth rushing through his extremities. Gabriel is standing on a table, belting out “Let It Go” at the top of his lungs; at least he and Sam are both distracted enough so that they won’t see Cas go.

He maneuvers through the crowd, but just as he gets to the entry way he stops dead in his tracks.

There stands Dean, looking the same as he’s always looked: leather jacket, worn jeans, untucked flannel shirt and a beanie (the one Cas made him, he notes) pulled down over his ears. Cas swallows hard, wondering if the uncertain look in Dean’s eyes mirrors his own.

Why was he here? Gabriel had made it very clear to Cas that Dean said he wasn’t coming; that is the only reason he had decided to come at all.

Castiel’s shoulders drooped. If anyone was going to show up to a party unannouced, it would be Dean.

It _had_ to be Dean.

 

 


	2. Alpha Meets Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel needs a ride. Dean needs gas money. Hilarity ensues.

**2003**

 

Castiel’s phone pings and s a text message lights up the screen.

_Lisa: We’re downstairs_

He slips off of the stripped mattress he’d been sitting on and takes one last look at his now-bare dorm room. He picks up his suitcase, backpack and duffel and heads out to the elevators. It’s a surreal feeling to say he’s a college graduate. When he had first arrived in Gainesville, college had seemed so incredibly daunting with no end in site. Being 1000 miles from home was itself an adjustment, but there was so much to think about that he had not ever considered before, like laundry or having a roommate who locks you out of your room three nights a week to have sex with his beta girlfriend ( _fucking Uriel!_ ). The stress had nearly sent him into a rut the first semester. To actually be _done_ was both a relief and terrifying.

With a sigh, Cas exits the building where he is immediately confronted with a black behemoth of a car parked at the curb in front of him. Lisa is pressed against the side of it as a tall guy in a leather jacket kisses her deeply. Cas can guess this is probably his traveling partner for the next 24-plus hours.

“There you are, Cas!” Lisa announces as she pulls away from the kiss. The guy turns and glares at him, clearly irritated by the interruption. He has the build and look of an alpha, but the scent of “pissed-off omega” is rolling off of him in waves. Lisa approaches Cas and he gives her a polite one-armed hug as she pecks him on the cheek. Cas and Lisa were a little more than acquaintances and a little less than good friends. They shared the same major, so they had ended up in all the same upper level courses. She was a nice girl, a bit demanding Castiel thought, but generally well-meaning.   
She was also the one who had coordinated this arrangement. She had mentioned that her boyfriend was heading to Chicago when Castiel griped how he didn’t think his car would be able to make another trip to Illinois.

“ _Dean would love to have company_ ,” she assured Cas, “ _and that car is a gas guzzler. He could use the help with funds_.”

Now, Dean was standing there, glaring at Castiel like he was going to steal his girl. Cas steels his nerves and extends his hand

“Hey, I’m Castiel,” he says, introducing himself.

“Dean Winchester,” Dean replies, shaking Cas’ hand firmly, practically crushing it. “Feel free to throw your things in the back. Is, uh… Is that all you’ve got?” He glances down to Castiel’s single suitcase, backpack and duffel bag.

“Uh, yeah. I sold or gave away most of my stuff,” Cas admits. Dean nods absently as Castiel shoulders his bag and walks around to the back of the car. He drops his things into the already very-full trunk and slams it shut. Dean turns to Lisa with a sigh.

“We ought to get going if we’re going to beat the traffic through Atlanta,” he says reluctantly. Lisa nods and pulls Dean in for a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you,” she murmurs.

“I’ll miss you too, babe,” Dean replies. He pulls back and cups her face in his hands.

“Call me as soon as you get there,” she orders, “no excuses.” Dean gives her a mock salute before pulling her in for another passionate kiss. It quickly grows heated, with Dean once again pressing Lisa against the side of the car. Castiel stands there in awkward silence for a minute before loudly clearing his throat.

“Yeah, we gotta go.” Dean sighs, pulling away from her. He opens the car door and Cas does the same. The engine roars to life and Dean reaches out the window to squeeze Lisa’s hand one more time before shifting into gear and pulling away from the building.

The first hour is spent in uneasy silence as Castiel passes the familiar sights of Gainesville for the last time.

“So, we have a couple rules here at Chez Impala,” Dean breaks the silence abruptly.

“What?” Castiel asks, frowning at Dean.

“The Car. It’s an Impala,” Dean clarifies. “A few rules: Keep your feet off the dash, no drinks except water, driver picks the music,” Dean points to himself, “shotgun shuts his cakehole.” He points to Cas. Castiel hums and reaches into his backpack, pulling out a small bag of granola.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, also No food.” Castiel gapes at him.

“I… C’mon, man, I didn’t have lunch,” he gripes.

“Not my problem,” Dean replies. “This car is like my child.” Dean lovingly caresses the dash, “She’s 37 years old. Keeping her in peak condition is a delicate balance, so... No food.” Castiel raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve got to be kidding?”

“Look, if you can hold out until we get through Atlanta, I know this great burger place. My treat.”

“I’ve _been_ to The Varsity,” Castiel says, rolling his eyes.

“This place blows Varsity out of the water,” Dean counters, shooting Cas a cocky grin. Castiel’s stomach growls loudly and he wants to protest, but Dean’s offer intrigues him, and he stays quiet.

“So Lisa wasn’t really clear,” Dean says. “Where are you headed?”

“Uh, Pontiac,” Cas says. Dean looks confused, “about 90 minutes south of Chicago,” he clarifies and Dean nods.

“What’s in Pontiac?” Dean asks as he fiddles with the ancient radio, settling on a quickly fuzzing-out classic rock station.

“Home, family,” Castiel shrugs. He doesn’t really have a reason for returning to Illinois other than that is what he’s always done. It’s still home, afterall.

“What about you?” Castiel asks, “are you from Chicago?”

“Nah, I’m from Kansas originally,” Dean says, “but I have an uncle there who is going to let me crash with him while. Plus, my kid brother is heading to Northwestern in the fall and I kinda want to be close to him, y’know?” Cas nods, although he can’t really sympathize. He has 4 siblings, and they all drive him batshit crazy.

“So how do you know Lisa?” Dean asks. And there it is, the question that has been hanging between them.

“We have the same major, a lot of the same classes, same study groups, you know…” Cas lets himself trail off. He’s had to play the submissive game before with someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend, but usually they are another alpha, not an omega.

“Never had a thing for her?” Dean gives him the side eye. Cas laughs at that.

“Ah, no,” he admits honestly. “Lisa’s nice but , um… her personality’s a little strong for me.” Dean nods and sighs.

“Yeah, Lisa can be a little HM.” Cas raises an eyebrow at the term. “High Maintenance? She’s a demon in the sack though, let me tell ya.” Dean chuckles at that as Castiel’s eyes widen.

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you? Two omegas together?” Dean asks as they pass the the exit for Jacksonville.

“What? No! Of course not!” Castiel scoffs.

“No, I bet that’s one of your fantasies,” Dean needles. “Two omegas at once, pawing all over you, all over each other.” Castiel’s cheeks go bright red.

“No,” he mumbles, averting his eyes.

“Liar!” Dean laughs loudly. Cas frowns deeply and turns to face the window.

“So when do you want to switch off on driving?” Cas asks, attempting to change the subject.

“We don’t,” Dean replies. “No one drives Baby except me.” Castiel shakes his head in disbelief.

“It’s going to take us like 30 hours if we have to stop…”

“We don’t have to stop,” Dean interupts.

“Um, I don’t feel like dying it a ditch if you fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Relax, will ya,” Dean looks at Cas. “I was practically born in this car. I’ve traveled cross country more times than I can count. I can handle a long drive and, hey, if we do have to stop, it’ll be four hours. Max.” Cas sighs heavily but digresses. His stomach again groans loudly.

“If you really want to eat, go ahead,” Dean says quietly, “but you have to promise that you’ll vacuum your seat the next time we top off.” Cas rolls his eyes but nods as he pulls the granola from his bag.

 

*******

 

“You are out of your damn mind!” Dean barks loudly. The Atlanta skyline passes by them, but Cas and Dean are too immersed in their conversation to notice. “It was always Han and Leia.”

“No, Luke and Leia were the better fit,” Cas insists. “Two Betas, it was perfect.”

“Except for the fact that they were _brother and sister_ ,” Dean points out.

“Ah, but that wasn’t the original plan,” Cas counters. “Initially, Lucas had planned for Luke to have a sister, but it wasn’t Leia. That part was just added in _Jedi_ to quickly resolve the love triangle issue.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean groans.

“Lucas added the twin thing because people were upset that she _clearly_ picked the wrong mate.” Dean stared at him dumbfounded.

“Wrong? What?... You think Han was the wrong choice??” Dean gasps in disbelief. “I would’ve thought you’d love the alpha badass.”

“I may be an alpha, but I know a knothead when I see one, and Han was a grade-A knothead.”

“Oh my god! You are out of your mind,” Dean laughs loudly. “Look, Han may have started out a knothead, but by the end he changed-”

“No, he hadn’t!” Cas grouses. “If they had been real people, Han would have screwed her and hightailed it in the Millennium Falcon as soon as he could.”

“Ok, I can prove that’s false!” Dean insists. “They got married, and in the extended universe-”

“No, no, no, I’m not talking about the extended universe,” Cas disputes. “We’re talking about the movies here. Han would have left Leia, alone and pupped. Luke was a much better match for her.” Dean makes a disgusted noise, as he takes the exit toward Smyrna.

“No, it’s true!” Cas argues. “Think about it. We have Luke: loyal, kind, never giving up on his friends. Then we have Han, a thief who kept abandoning the rebellion every chance he got.”

“He came back,” Dean reminds.

“But still kept running away!” Cas counters. “If you were Leia, who would you want for a mate: The loyal Jedi or the cowardly Nerfherder?” Cas gives Dean a smug look.

“Well, I bet money the Nerfherder was better in bed,” Dean offers. They pull into the dark parking lot of a hole-in-the-wall diner.

“Is that all you think about?” Cas squawks. “You know, sex is great and all, but it’s not what makes a relationship.”

“Look, Cas, that might be how you feel, but-”

“It’s not just me, it’s everybody, Dean. It’s the biological imperative in action,” Cas says as he opens the door and steps out of the Impala, spouting whatever he could remember from Gender Dynamics 101. “Mating is about loyalty and companionship and building a life together, extending the species. When it comes down to it, sex is about the bond more than getting off. What people want is a mate who will either protect them or support them and that is just how it is!” Castiel finishes his argument with a flourish, slamming the car door. Dean stands there dumbstruck for a moment, frowning in thought.

“Huh, well, that makes more sense,” he says, locking the car and walking toward the diner.

“What?” Cas asks. Dean waves him off, but Cas presses him. He stops just as he opens the door and stares plainly at Cas.

“You obviously have never had good sex.” Dean hurries into the restaurant. Cas stares at him, flabbergasted before following him in.

“I have so,” Cas hisses. Dean shakes his head.

“No you haven’t,” Dean says as he holds up two fingers to the hostess.

“I have _so_ had good sex!” Cas replies, much louder than he intended. Several heads turn in his direction as he sheepishly follows Dean into a booth. A bored-looking waitress passes by their table, dropping off a couple waters and menus. Dean picks up the menu and eyes it over.

“Who?” He asks, not looking up from the menu.

“What?” Cas says.

“ _Who_ did you have this mind-blowing sex with?” Dean clarifies.

“This is not appropriate,” Cas mutters as he opens his menu.

“Fine. Don’t tell me,” Dean replies nonchalantly. Cas glares at him and thinks for a moment.

“Daphne Allen,” he answers. Dean looks up, raising a sarcastic brow.

“Daphne? _Really_?” Dean asks. He makes a _buzz_ sound with his mouth. “I’m sorry, flag on the play. No, you did not have great sex with a _Daphne_.”

“What? Yes, I did,” Cas insists. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying you have not, nor has anyone else, ever had great sex with a _Daphne_ ,” Dean explains. “You can get your nails done by a Daphne, you can check out a library book from a Daphne, but you won’t have great sex with a Daphne. It’s in the name.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cas mutters under his breath as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“It just doesn’t sound right,” Dean continues. “Gonna fuck you hard, _Daphne_. Take my knot, _Daphne_. You’re so fucking hot, _Daph-ne_.” Cas stifles a snort of laughter as the waitress approaches their table.

‘What can I get you two?” She asks.

“I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger, medium rare, with grilled onions and a slice of pecan pie for dessert,” he says and he passes the menu to her. She looks at Cas, who is still staring at the menu.

“Do you have onion rings?” He asks, the waitress nods. “Ok, I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger as well, well-done, with onion rings instead of fries and a side of ranch, please. Is the bun toasted? I’d like it toasted, please. I’d also like cheddar instead of American cheese, but only if it’s mild cheddar. If it’s sharp, I’d like swiss instead, but then no bacon. Can I get the bacon extra crispy, like almost burned?” The waitress blinks at him but continues to write on her pad.

“Anything else?” she asks.

“Um… Do you have cheesecake?” The waitress nods. “I’d like a piece of cheesecake with strawberries, but only if they are fresh strawberries, not frozen. If you don’t have fresh strawberries, I’ll take a side of hot fudge, but only if it’s fudge, _not_ chocolate syrup. If you don’t have either of those, I’ll just take the cheesecake plain, please.” He hands her back the menu, and the waitress walks off muttering. Cas turns back to Dean who is watching him curiously.

“So why did you break up?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“You and Daphne.” Dean says. Cas bites at the edge of his lip.

“It’s hard to explain,” he says.

“I’m all ears,” Dean says, leaning back into the booth. “Was she omega?” Cas nods, sighs and runs a hand through his mussed hair.

“She got a little intense for me… in the bedroom.” Dean’s eyes light up and he grins broadly.

“Ohhh, she was kinky, huh?” he chides. “What was it? C’mon, tell me? Whips? Chains? Did she make you wear her panties, because this alpha girl I dated once-”

“Would you keep your voice down?” Castiel hisses, cheeks flushing. He takes a deep breath, “we always used protection, y’know? Never once without it, but every time we were together, she always wanted me to talk about… _breeding her up_ , filling her with pups. It freaked me out, I guess.” Cas shrugs and draws a line down the condensation on the outside of his water glass.

“That’s it?” Dean says. “A breeding kink? _That_ was too intense for you?” Dean shakes his head and snorts derisively.

“She was very aggressive about it,” Cas adds.

“Jeez, you couldn’t even begin to imagine some of the kinky shit I’ve dealt with.” Dean says, “Hell, even Lisa.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Cas mumbles, as he grabs the sugar caddy and begins arranging the packets by color.

“I’m just going to say one thing: Bendy,” Dean gives a cheeky grin.

“Drop it, Dean,” Cas says flatly.

“Dropped,” he says, holding up his hand in mock-defense.

 

*******

 

They are just entering Tennessee when they pull off to fuel up. Dean asks Cas to grab him a cup of coffee when he asks if he needs anything. Cas shuffles to the bathroom, grabs a water, Dean’s coffee, a red bull and a bag of chex mix and heads back to the car. Dean is just topping off the tank as Cas arrives, handing him the styrofoam cup. He thanks him, but his eyes linger on Cas for just a moment too long.

“What?” Cas asks as he moves to the other side of the car. Dean just continues to stare at him, face unreadable. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

“Lisa never told me you were so attractive,” Dean says simply. “And you smell real nice, too.” Castiel’s brow draws tight.

“Ok,” he says cautiously. They slip into their seats and slam the doors.

“If you want, we can grab a hotel room,” Dean offers. Castiel’s eyes go wide and he gapes at Dean.

“Oh my god, Dean! No!” He blurts out. “What is wrong with you?”

“What? Do you have a problem with sexually-forward omegas?” Dean’s tone is slightly accusing. The engine turns and they make their way back onto the highway.

“No, but…” Castiel sputters, “Lisa is my friend.”

“And?”

“And you’re dating her,”

“And?”

“And you’re coming on to _me_. That doesn’t seem wrong to you?” Dean shakes his head and waves a hand at Cas.

“Lisa and I both know what’s up,” Dean says. “We love each other, but neither one of us want a long-distance thing. If we happen to come back together later on, cool, but if not, we parted on good terms.” Cas stares at Dean in disbelief.

“It doesn't make any difference. I’m not going to sleep with my friend’s boyfriend.” Cas says disgusted.

“So the only thing that’s keeping us from going at it like rabbits is your friendship with Lisa?” Dean teases. Castiel’s ears go red in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” he mutters. Dean cackles loudly.

“Ok, for one thing, you and Lisa are loose acquaintances, at best,” Dean gives him a pointed look, “and two, you’re not really friends.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No, you’re not,” Dean replies.

“Yes, we are!” Cas repeats seriously.

“No, you’re not, because alphas and omegas can’t be friends.” This gives Castiel pause.

“Wait, what?” He asks.

“Alphas and omegas can’t be friends,” Dean explains, “because the sex always gets in the way.”

“I never had sex with Lisa!” Cas exclaims.

“No, but it would’ve happened eventually,” Dean says. “There will always be some sort of attraction there.”

“So you’re saying alphas and omegas _can_ be friends if there isn’t any attraction?” Cas clarifies smugly.

“No, because you pretty much want to fuck them too.” Dean says plainly. Cas huffs and shakes his head.

“That’s complete bullshit!” He mutters.

“No, it’s true,” Dean says. “Think about it: we,” Dean swings a fingers between the two of them, “are biologically programmed to pair-bond. You have an unmated alpha and an unmated omega. Given enough time together, sex _will_ eventually happen, which will ruin the friendship.”

“Who's to say that the friendship will be ruined?” Cas asks. Dean gives him a withering look.

“Honestly, have you ever remained friends with someone after you stopped having sex with them?” Cas doesn’t answer and turns to look out the window.

“Thought so.” Dean mumbles smugly. They sit in silence for a long time when Castiel finally speaks up.

“So, since you and Lisa aren’t friends,” Dean continues, “how about we get that room?”

“No,” Cas says flatly, not turning his attention away from the window.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re pissing me off,” Cas spits. Dean shrugs and turns his full attention back to the road.

 

*******

 

The next hour passes in relative silence, until Castiel pipes up.

“So you’re alpha-and-omegas-can’t-be-friends thing,” Cas says, “I guess that means you and I can’t be friends?” Dean shrugs.

“Guess not,” Dean mumbles. Castiel hums in response, a little sadly, and leans his head against the car window as he shuts his eyes.

 

*******

 

They pull up outside Cas’ childhood home in Pontiac 12 hours later. Dean whistles lowly as they approach the colonial-style house.

“Wow, your family must be loaded or something,” Dean says. Cas gives him a confused look.

“Not really,” he says.

“Well, it’s bigger than anything I’ve ever lived in,” Dean replies. He kills the engine and exits the car. He pulls Cas’ suitcase and duffle from the trunk and drops it on the curb. Cas comes around the car and watches Dean. He doesn’t really know what to do. Neither one has volunteered his phone number, nor did they want it. Cas looks up at his house and then back at Dean.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says, offering his hand. Dean shakes it, somewhat gentler this time.

“Thanks for helping out with gas,” Dean says. “You… um… Take care, I guess.”

“Same to you,” Cas says, hefting up his bags. He begins making his way to the front door as Dean climbs back into the driver’s seat. As Cas enters his house, he hears the roar of the Impala’s engine and turns to watch the car disappear down his street.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The opinions held by Castiel in regards to _Star Wars_ are not those of the author nor the opinions held by Dean regarding the name "Daphne".


	3. I Know You From Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that awkward feeling when you sort of know someone and you _really_ don't want to talk to them? Yeah...

**2008**

Castiel navigates through the crowd. He holds his and Balthazar’s drinks above his head, stepping carefully to avoid bumping into people or spilling anything. At $15 a pop, every drop of these gin-and-tonics counts. Cas would be more irritated over the exorbitant price of drinks but, as Balthazar would say, “You have to use your per diem for something.”

The trade show floor is packed with people as vendors mingle with buyers trying to sell themselves or their companies. Cas makes an effort to breathe through his mouth to avoid choking on the thick scent of pheromones wafting through the room. He knows it isn’t the primary objective, but trade shows like these are always massive meat-markets. There are alphas posturing and growling at each other while pretty betas and dainty omegas giggle demurely. Castiel just rolls his eyes, so relieved he doesn’t have to put up with that shit anymore.

As he turns down the next aisle, he sees the scruffy blond head of his co-worker peaking out from the crowd. He appears to be talking to someone, maybe a vendor or rep from another company. Cas picks up the pace and weaves among the people.

“Balthazar,” he calls out when he’s 20 feet away. Bal turns and smiles at Cas, waving him over. It’s then that Castiel gets a glimpse of the person he was talking to.

Like a blast from the past, there stands Dean Winchester. He doesn't look much different than he did 5 years ago, only now instead of torn jeans, leather jacket and a faded henley, He’s dressed in a pair of fitted slacks with a shirt and tie.

Castiel’s mouth goes completely dry and an icy feeling of dread fills his veins. The last person he wants to have any interaction with is an inappropriate, over-sexed, loud-mouth omega like Dean. Castiel wishes he could just duck away, but it’s too late as Balthazar is coming toward him and reaching for his drink.

“About time, Cassie,” Balthazar drawls. “Were you distilling the gin yourself? Honestly!”

“There was a line,” Cas mumbles, avoiding eye contact with both men and trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. This close, he can pick up the familiar leather-and-pine alpha scent of Balthazar as well as the sweetly omega apple-cinnamon scent that must be Dean. So far Dean isn’t even looking at him, rather he is busting with laughter over some raunchy joke Bal just told. Castiel steps to the side, angling himself behind Bal and hopefully out of Dean’s eyeline. Balthazar notices this, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye and frowns in confusion.

“How much do I owe you?” He asks, but Castiel waves him off. It’s so rare that Balthazar is actually willing to part with his own money that Castiel almost regrets it, but he really needs to get away from Dean before he recognizes him.

“Listen man,” Dean says, his voice cuing the end of the conversation, “I’d love to keep this going, but I need to meet up with my supervisor before I get chewed out.” Dean reaches into his back pocket and hands Balthazar a business card, unconsciously pressing one into Castiel’s hands as well. Without another word, Dean disappears into the crowd. Balthazar immediately turns to Cas as they begin walking back down the aisle.

“Alright, Castiel, what the hell was that all about?” He huffs. They find an inlet between two booths with a few high tables set up. Castiel doesn’t answer; he sets his drink down and let’s his elbows fall onto the table. He rubs at his eye in relief.

“Thank god he didn’t recognize me,” he mutters.

“What are you talking about?” Bal asks as he takes a large swig of his drink. Cas lifts his head smirks at Castiel.

“The guy you were just talking to? After graduation, I traveled from Florida to Illinois with him,” Cas says, taking a sip of his drink. “Worst car trip of my life.” Balthazar’s eyebrows fly to his hairline and he glances at the spot where Dean had previously stood.

“Shit in bed, then?” Bal asks. Cas shakes his head vigorously.

“No, no, we didn’t sleep together... but he wanted to. He was dating a friend of mine and he came onto me,” Cas says. A large grin spreads across Balthazar's face.

“Oh, so he’s feisty, then?” Bal eyes the business card in his hand, _Dean H. Winchester_ printed in sans serif font across the front. “Sounds like my type of Omega.” Castiel points a finger in Balthazar’s direction.

“None of that,” he warns, “you’re mated now, remember?” Balthazar sighs heavily and drops his chin into his palm.

“I know! Isn’t it terrible,” he whines. “Such a waste.” Castiel gives him a deadpan look.

“C’mon, you love Bela, right?” Cas asks. “You couldn’t shut up about her for months.” Balthazar sighs and nods.

“Of course,” he insists. “When we’re not trying to tear each other’s eyes out, but she’s a beta.” Bal spits out the last word, “it’s so boring compared to an omega.” Castiel shrugs lightly, having nothing to add to that.

“So what happened?” Bal asks. “You drove from Florida to Illinois. What made it so terrible?”

“You mean aside from trying to cheat on my friend?” Cas asks. “He was just an assbutt, y’know? Just obnoxious and lewd.” Castiel remembers something at that moment, “oh, and I remember he said, and I’ll never forget this, alphas and omegas can’t be friends. He said sex always gets in the way. Isn’t that ridiculous?” Castiel laughs, but Balthazar just seems to consider the information.

“No, I can believe that,” he replies.

“Oh c’mon!” Castiel says. “You have omega friends.” Balthazar takes a sip of his drink and ponders this.

“I have coworkers who are omegas,” Balthazar admits, “but no one I would consider friends, per se. Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me, Castiel! You don’t have any omega friends, either.”

“I do!” He insists. Balthazar snorts in response.

“Really? Like whom?” This gives Castiel pause.

“Amelia,” he finally answers after a long moment, to which Balthazar just shakes his head.

“That’s your mate, Cassie, not your friend.”  
“We were friends first,” Cas says.

“But you ended up getting mated, therefore sex got in the way, therefore the argument stands as it is.” Balthazar drains his drink and slams the glass down onto the table with flourish. “Come along, quit pouting. Next round is on me, but we’re going to be late for the keynote if we don’t leave now.” Castiel tips back the rest of his drink and follows Balthazar through the crowd, putting the aggravating memory of Dean Winchester from his mind.

 

*******

 

It’s towards the end of the evening and Castiel is headed back to his room. He left Balthazar in the bar to do their networking so he could grab some sleep before an early symposium. He slings his jacket over his arm and shoves his tie lazily into his back pocket as he steps on to the steep escalator. He’s trying to decide if he wants room service or not, when he hears a gruff voice behind him.

“University of Florida, right?” Castiel turns around to see Dean Winchester leaning against the hand rail. His sleeves are now rolled up to his forearms and his tie is loosened. His scent is soft and relaxed and, despite being mated, Castiel can admit that some animal part of him finds it all very attractive.

“Excuse me?” Castiel asks, trying to be obtuse.

“You went to University of Florida, right,” Castiel nods, “I knew it! I knew I recognized you!” Dean’s face splits into a triumphant grin.

“Did we hook up?” Dean asks. Cas gapes at Dean.

“No,” he says emphatically, “God, no.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks. “Cause I’ve done a lot of things drunk that I can’t really remember.” Castiel shakes his head and ignores Dean, feeling strangely insulted by him already.

Dean bites his lip thoughtfully before realization dawns on him.

“I remember now! You were the guy I drove up north with,” Dean says. “You order your food weird, that was it.” Castiel rolls his eyes as he steps off the escalator. Dean follows close behind.

“You’re name is Cassius, right?” Dean asks.

“Castiel,” he corrects.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean says as he follows him down the hall. “It’s been, like, what? 5 years? What’ve you been up to? What do you do now?” Cas stops and turns to Dean.

“I’m in PR,” he says, a twinge of exasperation in his voice. “Pretty much Everyone at this convention is in PR.” Dean steps back and holds up his hands.

“I’m not,” Dean says. “I, uh… I work for the Tribune, automotive reviews and that kind of thing. It’s a good gig.” Dean’s expression is pleasant and friendly, but Castiel is exhausted from being on his feet all day.

“What do you want, Dean?” He sighs. Dean shrugs nonchalantly.

“I see a familiar face and I want to catch up. Grab some dinner, y’know?” Ah. _There it is_. Castiel smirks humorlessly.

“I’m mated,” he says, pulling his collar aside to reveal the edge of Amelia’s delicate claim at the crook of his neck.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Dean says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture before tugging his own collar aside to reveal a deep (and rather fresh) mating claim. “So am I.” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“You got mated? Really?”

“Yup,” Dean says with some satisfaction, rocking back on his heels. “His name is Michael. He works in finance. He’s a good Alpha.” Cas hums lightly.

“Well, good for you,” Cas says.

“So what do you say? We can have dinner together? As friends?” Dean offers up a hopeful look. Castiel shakes his head.

“As I recall, Dean, you told me alphas and omegas can’t be friends,” and with that Castiel turns on his heel and continues walking, leaving Dean gaping where he stands.

“You know what? You’re right, I did say that,” Dean says, following Castiel through the lobby. “But, there is an amendment to that, that says that if the alpha and omega are both mated, then the sex thing is cancelled out.” Castiel stops in front of the elevator doors and presses the button.

“But wouldn't that just promote territorial behavior and possessiveness in your mate?” Cas asks slyly. “I mean, you yourself implied that we are just slaves to our biological natures.” Dean’s face falls.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs. “It would just cause a lot of jealousy and then the mate would wonder why they aren’t enough and… It’d be a mess.” The elevator door opens and Cas and Dean both go to step inside. Cas casts Dean his best “alpha” look, causing the other man to shrink back.

“I'll..uh, I’ll just take the next one,” Dean says stepping aside. Cas ignores him, stepping into the car and pressing the button for his floor.

“Bye, Cas,” Dean calls out as the doors shut between them. Cas slumps against the elevator wall and closes his eyes. He reaches into his pocket, finding Dean’s business card from earlier. With no pretense, Castiel tears the card into small pieces, dropping them on the floor. _That’s more than enough Dean Winchester for one lifetime_ , he thinks.

 

 


	4. How Do You Tell Someone You Don't Love Them?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are both forced into uncomfortable conversations and one not-so-uncomfortable one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from song by Cowboy Mouth. CW for minor mentions of panic attacks.

**2013**

 

Castiel stands outside the highrise apartment, looking up at the rows of windows stretching above him. The wind rolls off of the lake and kicks up his hair into a frenzied mess. His plucks his cell phone from the pocket of his coat and sends a text.

_**Are you home?** _

He stands like a statue as pedestrians weave around him. It only takes a second before a response comes.

_Gabriel: Yeah. What’s going on?_

Castiel types quickly.

_**I’m outside your building. Can I come up?** _

_Gabriel: Sure. I’ll call down._

It takes a minute, but soon the outside door to the building opens and the doorman welcomes Castiel in. He nods a hello and strides quickly to the elevator. Once inside, Castiel slips off his trench coat and loosens his tie. He hopes Gabriel has something stronger than beer.

***

Gabriel opens the door, his happy grin immediately faltering.

“Jesus, Cas,” he says as he steps aside allowing Castiel to enter. “You look like death warmed over. Rough Day?” Castiel doesn’t answer, just drops his coat onto Gabriel’s over-immaculate sofa. He slumps down beside it and sinks into the upholstery.

“Do you have an liquor?” Cas asks, letting his head fall back as he massages the bridge of his nose.

“Does the pope shit in the woods?” Gabe asks as he heads toward his small kitchen. Castiel wants to point out that no, the pope probably defecates solely in Vatican City when a bottle of Knob Creek is pressed into his hand. Castiel sighs gratefully and unscrews the top. He completely ignores the glass Gabe has placed on a coaster in front of him, opting instead to take a long swig straight from the bottle.

“Easy there, Bukowski,” Gabe says. “What’s got you in such a mess?” Cas wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Amelia left me,” he mumbles. Gabriel mutters a curse and is instantly at Castiel’s side.

“She left you?? Like, moved out?” Cas nods and takes another drink, “When?”

“Three days ago,” Cas answers.

“And you’re just telling me now?” Gabe squawks, “I’m your best friend. I should find out these things first!”

“You are finding out first,” Cas says, voice flat and emotionless. “I haven’t… No one else knows yet. Well, maybe the movers.” Cas slumps forward, letting his face fall into his palms.

“What happened?’ Gabe asks. Cas looks up and shakes his head.

“I… I don’t even know,” he says. “I came home on Friday and there were movers there.”

“There was no warning?” Gabriel asks.

“She said she didn’t want to ruin my birthday.” Saying it outloud finally, Castiel realizes how pathetic it sounds and takes a long pull off the bourbon.

“So she decides to ruin your life instead?!” Gabe spits out, completely livid. “That Bitch!” Castiel’s hackles raise instinctually at the insult against his mate, and he consciously has to remind himself that he now has no right to be upset.

“She said… She said she doesn’t want to be mated anymore,” Cas says quietly. “She said that she was so young when we mated-”

“Young? You guys were 25?!” Gabe interrupts.

“-And she is a different person now,” Castiel continues. “She has dreams and… and they all involve her being on her own. She got a job offer in Indianapolis and took it. She’s moving there.” Gabe rubs a comforting hand over Cas’ back.

“Oh Cas, I’m sorry,” he says. Cas looks at his friend, noticing sincerity that is usually absent in Gabe’s demeanor.

“She was lying,” Cas mutters, the first traces of anger slipping into his voice.

“What? About the job?”

“No, there’s a job, but…” Cas sighs and rubs a hand over his brow. “She has someone else. Another alpha.” Gabe’s breath hitches.

“How do you know?” He asks. Cas bites at his lip.

“Followed her,” he admits. “She’s staying at his apartment right now.” Gabe whistles low.

“Jesus, man,” Gabe stands and runs a hand through his hair. “What are you going to do?”

“She wants to sell the condo.”

“Is that what you want?” Gabe asks skeptically. Cas nods.

“I can’t… I haven’t slept in 3 days,” he looks up at Gabe. “Can I crash here for a little while? I can’t stay there, it’s just…” He grasps for a word when Gabe’s hand comes down on his shoulder.

“Of course,” Gabe says, “It’s no problem.” Cas mumbles a thank you and takes another swig. He can hear Gabe pad to the kitchen and call a nearby take out place. Cas manages a small smile, grateful he has a friend like Gabe.

Cas’ hand drifts to his neck where Amelia’s claim sits. He knows that mates break up, divorces happen. It’s not as uncommon or taboo as it once was. Why did it have to happen to him though? He thought they were happy; _he_ certainly was happy. Now, he feels like the whole world has been tipped on it’s side. His head aches horribly and he can’t tell if it’s from the lack of sleep or the mate rejection. Maybe both.

 _We’re going to have to tell our families_ , Cas realizes. What is his mother going to say? What is his sister going to say? Castiel’s mouth goes completely dry and his vision starts to swim. He can hear a muffled noise that sounds similar to Gabe’s voice. There are arms wrapping around his shoulders and a hand is petting the back of his head.

“Breathe, Cas,” Gabe’s voice becomes clearer. “That’s right, keep breathing. No panic attacks at Chez Gabriel, got it?” Gabe presses a glass of water into Cas’ hand and demands that he drink it.

After Cas chugs the water, Gabriel directs him toward the guest bedroom and hands him a pair of sweatpants, insisting Cas take a long nap.

“Sleep,” Gabe orders. “I’m getting us some phở and queueing up some ‘Orange is the New Black’. You’ll feel like a new man tomorrow.” Castiel accepts his friends reassurance but as he settles beneath the duvet, he realizes he doesn’t want to feel like a new man. He wants to be the man he was last week. The one who still had his mate.

 

*******

 

Dean stares at his eggs, pushing them listlessly around his plate, thinking of how he is going to break this information to Sam and Charlie. They’re both stuck in conversation, too busy to notice that Dean’s not eating.

“So, yesterday while Luke was in the shower, I may have snooped a bit,” Sam admits sheepishly.

“Oh god Sam, what did you do?” Charlie says, stuffing a piece of bacon into her mouth. Sam bites at his lip.

“I went through his texts,” he admits. “I know, I know, but get this: his mate and him are trying to have another pup! Another one! I don’t think he’s never going to leave her.” Charlie’s shoulders slump and she groans loudly.

“Of course he’s never going to leave her! That’s what we’ve been saying for months,” Charlie says. “Sam why are you seeing someone who has a mate? The situation is so fucked up!” Sam shakes his head wearily.

“I know, but there’s just such a lack of good alphas in this city,” Sam says, popping a grape into his mouth.

“What about a good omega?” Charlie says, pointing a fork at Sam. “Dorothy and I know a lot-”

“I’m not into omegas, you know that,” Sam says. “I just want to find a nice, attractive, successful, _not-crazy_ alpha… Like Dean has.” Dean looks up at the mention on his name. His beta brother is motioning at him with a cantaloupe rind.

“I’m pretty sure Dean got the last of those,” Charlie chuckles. Dean sees his window.

“Michael and I broke up.” The entire table goes silent. Sam and Charlie both stare at him.

“What?” Sam gasps.

“We broke up.”

“When?” Charlie asks.

“10 days ago,” Dean says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And you’re just telling me now?” Sam says. “Jesus, Dean, I’m so sorry.” Sam reaches out to comfort him, but Dean shrugs off his hand.

“It’s not a big deal, Sam. I’m fine,” Dean says, his voice light, “Really?”

“Your mate just left you, you are not fine,” Sam says.

“He didn’t leave me,” Dean corrects.

“You left him!?” Charlie squeeks, reaching for Dean as well.

“Guys, guys!” Dean says, flexing out of their grasps. “It was mutual, ok? The relationship ran it’s course. There was no blow-out, no major disagreement, it just… ended.” Sam and Charlie both glare at him with twin skeptical expressions.

“But you guys were mated,” Sam says, as if Dean hadn’t realized that fact.

“Yeah, and now we’re not,” Dean says with a shrug. “Sam, it’s ok. Things like this happen. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Dean…” Charlie says hesitantly.

“I’m fine,” Dean emphasizes, “Really. Thank you for your concern, but really… I’m ok.” Dean focuses on finishing his breakfast. Sam and Charlie exchange worried glances, wordlessly agreeing to drop the subject for now.

  


*******

 

Dean can feel Sam boring a hole into the back of his head with his stare.

“Quit it, Sammy,” he mutters as he pays for his breakfast. Charlie had already left to meet Dorothy for a meeting at their daughter’s school. Dean knew she had ordered Sam to grill Dean for all information regarding his divorce.

“You have to talk to me sometime, Dean,” Sam says, and Dean can practically hear the bitchface in his voice.

“Actually, I don’t, because I don’t need to talk.” He turns to face Sam, “because I’m al-” Dean pauses mid-sentence when he sees someone out of the corner of his eye.

“Cas?” he says as he walks toward the booth. Castiel Novak sits alone, sipping a cup of black coffee and studying a crossword puzzle. He lifts his head at the sound of his name, cool blue eyes meeting Dean’s.

“Castiel?” Dean ask. He points to himself, “Dean Winchester? U of F? I’m not sure if you remember-”

“Of course, I remember you, Dean,” Cas says, his mouth tilting up into a polite smile. He extends his hand and Dean shakes it.

“You’re looking well,” Dean says. “Oh by the way this is my brother, Sam.” Dean turns around to see Sam waving him goodbye as he talks animatedly on his cell phone.

“... Was Sam,” Dean mumbles. He turns back to Cas, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you...” Castiel huffs a short laugh.

“No, no, you’re not bothering me,” Cas mumbles, idly drawing imaginary lines across the formica tabletop with his finger. “What have you been up to?” Dean shrugs casually.

“Same thing. I’m working for an automotive website, now,” he says, “blogging and shit. Can you believe that?”

“That’s good,” Cas replies. “Do you still have that beast of a car?”

“The Impala? Of course! Nothing short of the apocalypse could make me get rid of her,” Dean smiles brightly at the mention of his baby. “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, I know you’re probably waiting for your mate or something…” Castiel flinches at the mention of ‘mate’ and Dean catches it.

“I’m not waiting for…” He huffs an empty laugh, “I’m actually going through a divorce right now.” Dean’s expression falls, and all at once  he sees it on Castiel: the drawn expression, the dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean says, “uh, me too, actually,” he admits. Cas glances up at him, a look of understanding passing between them. Divorces did occur on a regular basis, but it still was a rare thing and held a immense social stigma for most people.

“My apologies, Dean,” Cas says. “How long ago?”

“Just over a week ago,” he replies, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “You?”

“A month,” Cas says, frowning slightly. Dean’s at a loss for what to do. Castiel looks so defeated and more than a little lost. Dean makes a decision and sits down across from him.

“Do you…. do you need to talk?” Dean asks hesitantly. At this moment, Dean really wishes Sam had stuck around; he’s so much better at this touchy-feely crap then Dean is. Hell, Sam would probably have a field day comforting a forlorn alpha like Castiel.

Cas nods and takes a sip of his coffee, but doesn’t say anything. They sit there in silence for a long while. Dean grabs a passing waitress and orders a coffee for himself. Just when he’s about to give up on getting anything out of Cas, he starts to talk.

They chat for close to an hour. Cas isn’t emotional about what happened, just level and straight-forward, stating the facts. It seems unusual to Dean, considering how abrupt and painful the break-up no doubt was.

“What about you, Dean?” Cas asks, draining his fourth cup of coffee. “What happened there?”

“Nothing,” Dean says with a shrug, “it was mutual. The relationship was just at its end.” Cas considers him carefully, not saying a word.

“But what set off the mutual break-up?” He asks. This line of questioning surprises Dean, because he knows exactly what happened.

“Michael was… is... a very, how do I put it? Traditional alpha,” Dean answers, “you know the type: Posturing, possessive, domineering at times.”

“Sounds like the exact opposite of you.” Cas offers.

“Yeah, you’d think so.” Dean says, “but we made it work, y’know. We were really good together.”

“What changed?” Cas asks. Dean hesitates. It’s something he has never discussed with anyone outside of Michael. He doesn’t know why he’s sharing with Castiel now, only that Castiel is willing to listen and do so without pitying Dean.

“I always assumed that, as an uber-traditional alpha, he would want traditional things,” Dean says, “like pups.” Cas’ expression changes as he begins to understand what Dean is saying.

“And Michael assumed that since you’re an untraditional omega, you wouldn’t.” Dean taps the tip of his nose with his finger with a sad smile.

“Isn’t that something to discuss _before_ mating?” Cas asks, and Dean chuckles at that.

“Yeah, well hindsight and all that,” Dean says. “So I said ‘this is what I want’, and he said ‘well, I don’t’ and I said ‘well, I guess that’s it.’”

“And that was it,” Cas says, not taking his eyes off of Dean.

“Yeah,” he says with a small shrug, “and you know what? I don’t miss him. It’s weird: we were together for 6 years and I just… don’t.” Castiel’s expression is distant and unreadable, but he hums is response.

Dean checks his phone and gawks at the time. “Jesus, I’ve got to get going.” He stands from the table and pulls a few bills from his wallet.

“Yes, I should be going as well,” Cas says, nodding stiffly and Dean can see his relaxed demeanor give-way to the miserable tension from before. Guilt hits Dean square in the chest and he bites at his lip.

“Um, look, if you ever need someone to talk to or anything,” Dean says, reaching into his wallet and removing a business card, “feel free to give me a call or whatever. I know… I know this situation sucks.” He shrugs. Cas takes the card, and maybe Dean imagines it, but a little of the tension in his shoulders drains away as he does. He stands and pockets the card, reaching out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says.

They part ways once they are outside the diner, both going in opposite directions. Dean strolls down the block, enjoying the unseasonably-warm spring weather and wondering if he just became friends with an alpha.

 

 


	5. My Apartment is Very Clean Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean bond over grout, anti-depressants and trips to IKEA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter comes from the [song of the same name](http://youtu.be/TTSWIxnwEoU) by Garfunkel and Oates.
> 
> Also, I threw in some silly references if you're like me and watch Youtube videos of con panels and Q&A's on a continuous loop.

Dean is more than a bit surprised when just over three weeks after he runs into Castiel, he receives a text from him.

At first, all he sees is a unknown number with **_Hello Dean_** beneath it. Dean is about to respond with a curt “Who is this?” when _**This is Castiel**_ quickly appears under it.

Dean smirks at his phone, considering how to respond. He doesn’t know if he actually expected Castiel to call when he’d handed him his card. Dean always had the impression from their past interactions that he irritated Castiel. For him to reach out to Dean seems a little out of character. Truthfully, it piques Dean’s curiosity. He stares at the words on the screen and types back.

 _Hey Cas. How are you doing?_   Quickly saving his number in his contacts before a little thinking bubble appears a moment later.

 _ **Cas: Not very good. Trying to keep busy as a distraction. So far this week I’ve reorganized my books twice, reorganized my music and now I’m currently cleaning my apartment for the third time in five days**_. Dean grimaces.

_That bad, huh?_

**_Cas: That’s the only upshot to divorce. My apartment is very clean._** Dean raises an eyebrow and glances around his own wrecked living room.

 _Sure_ he shoots back.

“Weird-ass alpha,” Dean mutters. The thought bubble appears on the screen once again.

 _ **You can only clean for so long, though. I think I might be wearing down the grout in my bathroom.**_ Dean snorts and types.

 _You’re always welcome to come out to my place. I’ve got plenty of grout._ Dean means it as a joke, but there is no response. He wonders for a long time what he said exactly to offend Cas when 40 minutes later there is a knock at his door. Dean opens it to find Castiel standing there, cleaning supplies and bucket in hand.

“Cas?” Dean asks, very confused.

“I’m here to clean your apartment,” he says.

“Um, dude, I was _joking_ ,” Dean explains, “but, hey, have at it if you like.” He steps aside and allows Cas to enter. Castiel glances around his apartment, taking in everything with a scrutinizing eye.

“How exactly did you find out where I live?” Dean asks, suddenly suspicious.

“The phone book,” Castiel answers, very matter-of-fact.

“Who still uses the phone book?” Dean didn’t know he was listed in the phone book. Hell, he didn’t even know they still _made_ phone books.

“I do,” Castiel says as he moves past Dean. He finds the bathroom and immediately gets to work windexing the mirror. Dean sighs and decides to stay out of Cas’ way. He sits in his living room, reading through the paper and enjoying his Sunday off. At first, he doesn’t hear a peep out of Castiel aside from a question regarding a vacuum cleaner and some low unintelligible muttering as he scrubs the bathtub.

It’s the muttering that gives Dean pause, especially since it grows louder once he moves to the kitchen and Dean can make out a few angry words and the name “Amelia” repeated furiously.

“Uh, Cas,” Dean rises from the couch and approaches the breakfast bar that separates the two rooms, “are you ok?” Cas looks up from where he’s cleaning, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I’m fine, Dean.” It’s a lie. Not only does his appearance speak volumes, but the smell of pain and irritation is permeating the kitchen, even breaking through the lemon-chemical scent of cleaner.

“You are far from fine,” Dean states, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to do all of this-”

“Please,” Cas interrupts him, “please. It relaxes me.” When he looks up at Dean, it’s clear that he needs this. Cas continues to scrub the basin of the kitchen sink violently.

“Ok,” Dean says softly, but instead of returning to his paper, he sits himself at the counter. “Would you like to talk?” Dean asks, once again wishing he had Sam’s talent for mushy conversations. Castiel stops scrubbing and drops his elbows to the counter, letting his head fall into his rubber-gloved hands.

“I’m pissed,” he sighs.

“At me?” Dean asks. Cas lifts his head and looks at him.

“No, at Amelia,” he replies. “I’m finally past the denial stage and I’m just...so… so fucking angry!” There is a slight growl at the end of his words and it’s the only thing that gives away his alpha personality.

“Of course you are,” Dean says, hopping off of his stool and walking around to the fridge. “You have every right to be. So be angry.” He opens the fridge and pulls out two beers, opening them against the scuffed corner of the counter. He drops one in front of Cas who thanks him quietly.

“Have you talked to your Doctor about bond-blockers?” Dean asks, trying to bridge a sensitive subject. SLRIs, or Bond-Blockers as they are commonly known, are often used to reduce the anxiety and mood swings normally related with breaking mating bonds. Some extremist politicians in Washington have tried for years to outlaw them, saying that mates should feel pain and stress if they break their bonds. Thankfully, though, the movement hasn’t gained much traction.

“Yeah, he gave me some,” Cas says, rubbing at his temples, “um… Divisium, I think.” Dean nods in understanding.

“Mine has me on Restrax.” He offers, “it really curbs the temper, I think. Maybe you should ask about that.” Cas just shakes his head.

“No, my Doctor mentioned those, but he said they aren’t very effective on alphas.” Dean nods and sips his beer. They stand there in a comfortable silence.

“You know what the worst part of all this is,” Cas says after taking a long pull off of his beer. “I don’t really have any friends anymore.” Dean’s brow furrows.

“Wait, What? What is she saying to your friends?” He asks. Castiel just shakes his head.

“Nothing, she didn’t do or say anything, but,” he takes a deep breath, “we have these ‘Couple Friends’, y’know? Like, they weren’t specifically _my_ friends or _her_ friends. We all became friends as couples.” Dean nods. He’s definitely familiar with the situation.

“I’ve known some of these people for five, six years.” Castiel’s movements start to get animated. “We’ve been on vacations together, we went to each other’s houses for the holidays, we were close, you know? But the second we announced we were splitting up…”

“It’s like you don’t exist," Dean finishes his sentence and Cas nods.

“Yeah,” he says sadly, taking another sip of his beer.

“They act like divorce is contagious,” Dean offers. “Which, if you think about it, is actually kind of true.” Cas glares at him and tilts his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a couple breaks up, it makes those that they’re close to re-examine their own relationships,” Dean offers, a sad smirk curling at his lip. “Especially if the couple seems solid, which...  judging by how badly you were blind-sided, you and Amelia probably did.” Cas nods solemnly in agreement.

“Divorce puts a spotlight on things and everything looks different in the harsh light of honesty,” Dean adds.

“That’s actually quite poetic, Dean,” he says. His scent has calmed significantly, and Dean enjoys a warm sense of pride that he is responsible.

“I have my moments,” Dean shrugs. “So you had no friends of your own?”

“Well, I guess I have this alpha woman I work with, Meg. She’s…” Cas sighs and pulls a face, “fine in small doses. Of course, there’s Gabe, but he’s practically family. We’re like brothers.”

“You got me,” Dean offers nonchalantly. Cas looks at him, an odd smile on his face.

“I thought you always said alphas and omegas can’t be friends,” Cas raises a curious eyebrow.

“I never said that,” Dean lies.

“Yes, you did.” Cas says, firmly calling Dean on his bullshit with one look.

“Ok, maybe I did,” Dean admits with a shrug, “but, I can honestly say that you are the first attractive alpha I’ve ever met who I haven’t wanted to sleep with.” Cas grimaces at this admission.

“Congratulations, Dean,” he drops his empty bottle into Dean’s trash and grabs a rag out of his bucket before heading toward the living room. Dean follows, dropping onto the couch just as Cas begins wiping the dust off of his blinds.

“It doesn’t help that…” Cas pauses, rubbing his forehead. “My, uh… rut, is a few days away and it’ll be my first since…” He let’s himself trail off, allowing Dean to fill in the blanks.

“First time solo in a while, huh?”

“Six plus years,” Cas grouses. “It’s going to be horrible.”

“I feel you on that one, Man,” Dean says, taking a sip. “I have my heat coming up in a couple weeks. I’ll probably have to travel to Narnia to find my fucking toy stash.” He chuckles at his own joke and Cas snorts in amusement.

“We could always help each other out?” Dean offers quietly. Cas jerks his head up with an incredulous glare. “You’re right. That’s kind of gross.” Dean turns his attention back to his crossword puzzle.

“You think?” Cas snarks. He turns his attention back to the blinds. “Dear God Dean! have you ever dusted your blinds?”

“You can dust blinds?” Dean jokes sarcastically. Cas rolls his eyes and continues to clean.

 

*******

 

Dean is sure that if there is a Hell, it looks exactly like IKEA, and currently Dean is in Hell. Everything about this place grates on his nerves, from the hour drive outside of the city to maneuvering his baby around the parade of soccer moms who seem to have gathered at the adjacent mall, this place is the worst. Not even Castiel’s promise of meatballs can lift his spirits.

Dean sighs and leans against a post, watching as Castiel flops down on another bed.

“Why can’t you buy a normal mattress from a normal mattress store?” Dean huffs.

“I like their mattresses,” Cas offers, pressing down into the bed, testing the softness. “They’re comfy.”

“But there’s nothing to them,” Dean says, sitting down beside Cas. “This is about as supportive as a futon.” Dean bounces up and down on it a couple times and frowns.

“I like firm mattresses,” Cas offers standing from the bed and examining the price tag at the end. “Not everyone is so enamoured with memory foam, Dean.” Dean rolls his eyes and follows Cas as they make their way to the next bed.

“Cas, why are you driving this far out for a bed?” Dean grouses, “I can think of at least four quality places in the city. Hell, a few more hours south and you could hit up one of those little Amish shops. Plus, you wouldn’t have to read those confusing-ass instructions.”

“I don’t find the instructions confusing,” Castiel says, making a note of a particular piece's name. “I rather like putting them together, actually.” Dean snorts.

“Oh, now I get it!” He says snidely. “Putting all this crap together makes you feel all alpha and shit.” Castiel flinches slightly at his words and Dean can’t help needling him.

“God, just when I think you are above all the knothead bullshit, it turns you buy into that alpha posturing just like everyone else, if only a little.” Dean grins widely and Castiel rolls his eyes.

“I never said I was above anything, Dean,” he chastises. “Yes, I like putting the stuff together, but it has nothing to do with posturing.” He tries to shoot Dean a glare, but Dean’s wide grin seems to deflect it.

“I enjoy puzzles. That’s all it is,” Castiel sighs, “just a very large, practical puzzle.” They pass by the office furniture where Castiel makes note of a desk he likes. At random times, Dean pops into the mock-home sets and pretends to cook.

“Hello Dear,” he says, putting on his best ‘doting omega’ voice and clasping his hands together in front of himself primly. “I have your gin and tonic ready. Oh, and look, I didn’t burn down the house today. Maybe if I’m really lucky, you’ll breed me up just like I’m meant for. Tee-hee.”

“What are you doing?” Castiel laughs in spite of himself.

“I’m bored,” Dean whines playfully, flopping over a countertop.

“You’re like a child,” Cas says under his breath. Dean grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the next kitchen.

“You can play, too,” Dean insists. He pulls back his shoulders and Castiel cocks a brow, curious as to what Dean is doing.

“Vor ze rest of ze day, Ve are going to talk like zis.” Dean says, putting on a Russian accent, “Repeat after me: Vat is yoor dream?” Dean gives Castiel an expectant look.

“What is your Dream?” Cas attempts, accent mangled.

“No, no, no, again,” Dean says, shaking his head, “Vat is yoor dream?”

“Vhat is yooor dream,” Castiel repeats. Dean chuckles lightly.

“I don’t know what accent you’re attempting, but it’s not Russian,” Dean says, breaking character. “It sounded like Irish, or Indian, or a combination of the two.” They move down the row toward the escalator.

“What is that from?” Cas asks, changing the subject, “that ‘what is your dream?’ line?” They lean against opposite rails as they descend into the bottom floor of the store.

“It’s Val Kilmer in _The Saint_ ,” Dean says flatly. Castiel shakes his head and shrugs. Dean gapes at him. “You’ve never seen _The Saint_?!”

“Should I have?” Dean shakes his head.

“Man, add that to the list of movies you have _got_ to see,” he orders as they step off the escalator and head toward housewares. “In fact, why don’t you come over tonight? I’ll make dinner and and you can have the proper viewing experience. No need to ruin the movie on your rinky-dink little TV.” Castiel’s face falls and he grimaces.

“Can we take a rain check?” he asks guiltily. “I, uh… I kind of have a date tonight.” Castiel cringes internally, unsure whether or not Dean would be upset with him cancelling their plans.

“Seriously?” Dean asks, his mouth curling at the corners. “That’s great, man!” Castiel takes a tentative sniff, checking Dean’s scent for deception, but all he smells is warm, happy “Dean” scent. Cas sigh and relaxes, glad that information was now in the open.

“Who’s it with?” Dean asks, as Castiel examines the kitchen utensils, throwing them into a complimentary yellow bag.

“One of our vendors from work,” Cas admits. “Her name is Hannah, she’s a beta. She’s… nice.” Dean smiles and nods in understanding.

“Well, good for you, man,” Dean offers. “It’s good that you’re dipping your toe back in the dating pool.”

“Yeah,” Cas agrees. He turns to Dean and looks at him seriously, “I think you should too, Dean.” Dean posture changes as he says this, and he stares at Castiel worriedly.

“I… Uh-” He stammers for a response.

“You’re always saying that Sam is trying to set you up with someone,” Castiel points out. “Why not take him up on the offer?” Dean laughs lightly and walks toward the check out.

“I uh… I don’t do blind dates, Cas,” Dean replies. Cas rolls his eyes,

“C’mon, I know it’s difficult, believe me, but it can’t hurt to just rip the band-aid off, so to speak.” Dean looks at Cas doubtfully.

“If for no other reason, do it for me,” he sighs. “We can be each other’s date sponsors, or something. We’ll compare notes.” Dean smiles at that and finally nods.

“Alright, Cas,” Dean says, “if it’ll make you feel better, then ok.” Castiel smiles, relieved, and Dean can’t help smiling back. They continued walking toward the check out.

“On one condition, though,” Dean says.

“What?”

“Never bring me here again.”

 

 


	6. I'll Have What He's Having

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel recount bad dates and get a blast from the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of chapter comes from... Well, you know.

“I’m telling you, Dean, there’s no way you have me beat. It was so fucking awkward.” Cas groans as they weave through the aisles of Trader Joe’s. It had become their routine over the last few months: Bad date breakdowns and trolling for samples. Dean leans over to a nearby kiosk and plucks up two tiny cups of pumpkin soup, handing one to Cas.

“I find that hard to believe,” Dean says, shaking his head. “I mean, this girl asked me if I spoke Italian after I ordered the fettuccine alfredo.” Cas snorts and drains the soup from the cup.

“Let me guess: you said that you did?” he asks. Dean snorts and nods. “Jesus, Dean, I don’t know why you insist on lying to them. Especially other omegas.”

“Entertainment value,” Dean replies with a shrug, to which Castiel huffs in annoyance. “C’mon now, you want me to be your ‘dating sponsor’, I will, but if I don’t feel like this is someone I can relate to, I’m not going to force it.” Cas sighs and nods, seeing Dean’s point.

“I don’t remember dating being this hard,” Dean grouses. “Everyone I meet is either an idiot or has a knot where their brain should be.” Cas shrugs as he plucks up a carton of yogurt and throws it in their cart.

“It’s going to take time to find someone you have a connection with,” Cas offers, spouting the psychobabble bullshit that instantly has Dean rolling his eyes. “Even more so until you can sleep with someone.”

“Oh, I still slept with her,” Dean says nonchalantly. Castiel stops abruptly and watches Dean continue down the row, shaking his head in disgust.

“Honestly, Dean,” he mutters. Dean just laughs to himself, dropping a box of cookies into the cart.

“Well let me tell you about the trainwreck that was my date,” Castiel begins. “For starters, it was a blind date-”

“I thought you said it was a double date?” Dean interupts.

“It was both,” he clarifies. “She’s a friend of Gabriel’s, if that tells you anything. Anyway, it’s me, him, his… ugh, I-don’t-even-know-what-to call-her, his _thing_ , this alpha woman named Kali, and my date, April.”

“Gabe’s dating an alpha? Really?” Dean asks, pulling a face. Castiel snorts and nods.

“If you can call it dating. ‘A dramatic reenactment of the cold war’ seems more accurate,” he replies sarcastically. “It’s about as harmonious as you would imagine.” Dean laughs to himself. He’s only met Gabriel briefly in passing, but Castiel has filled him in on all the details of his friend’s bombastic personality.

“They were literally at each other’s throats all night, and this girl I’m with, she’s a beta but she has this _huge_ alpha-complex, and…” Cas shakes his head and groans. “It was just so awkward and tense.”

“Testosterone soup, huh?” Dean says as they turn down the cereal aisle.

“Like you would not believe,” Cas retorts. “It got so bad, I actually had to fake a rut and excuse myself.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean exclaims, stopping in his tracks as Cas continues walking. “What are you talking about?”

“I had to fake a rut so I could leave,” Cas says. “It was _that_ bad.”

“No, I mean what do you mean you ‘faked a rut’?” Dean demands, brows furrowed. Cas stares at him blankly.

“I faked a rut,” he states slowly. “It’s not a big deal. Haven’t you ever faked a heat before?” Dean glares at him dumbfounded.

“No,” he asserts. “How is it even possible to fake that?”

“It’s easy,” Castiel says. “You’re telling me that you have _never_ faked a heat?”

“Why would I?” Dean exclaims. “That’s awful.” 

“It’s a good way of getting out of awkward situations,” Cas offers. “Really? you’ve never faked one?”

“Of course not!” Dean insists. “And anyway, the scent would give it away.” Castiel shakes his head affably.

“With the right stance and noises, people often don’t even notice the scent.” Dean looks at him doubtfully.

“I would totally know if you were faking,” he says. Castiel glances at him for a moment.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he says, examining the shelves. Dean squints at him.

“Yeah, I would,” Dean says. “You might have a good poker face, Cas, but I know ruts and there is no way you could put one past me.” Castiel looks at him curiously, but doesn’t say anything. Dean smiles to himself, confident that he made his point when he hears a low noise. He turns to see Cas hunched over himself and snarling quietly.

“Cas?” Dean asks. Cas turns his head toward Dean, distinctly sniffing the air. His upper lip pulls back and his teeth are bared as he begins slowly moving toward Dean. His whole body is tense, like there is a wire being drawn tight within him about to snap.

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean mumbles, unconsciously backing up. A growl rolls low in Castiel’s chest and his fists clench and tighten at his sides. He stalks slowly toward Dean, nostrils flaring. 

“Cas, c’mon man cut it out. This isn’t funny.” Dean sees an older woman out of the corner of his eye glance in their direction, before flushing and hurrying into the neighboring aisle. Cas looks up and Dean could swear he sees his pupils dilate. He takes another step back, but his back collides with the shelf behind him. All at once, Cas is tightly grabbing his arms and pressing him against the shelf.

Dean can feel the vibrations of a growl traveling from Castiel’s chest to his own as he pulls Dean closer. He sniffs deliberately, taking a deep breath as he passes over Dean’s neck. His nose, lips, stubble pass over the sensitive skin and he shivers in response. His hands flex and curl at his side, undecided if they want to push a feral alpha away or draw him closer. Dean can’t help the minute movement as he pulls his head to the side, cursing himself for the display. It’s been so long since he’s been close to an alpha, and deep down a part of him indulges in the feeling.

“This… this isn’t funny, man,” Dean mumbles. A snarl thunders up from within Castiel and Dean can feel hot breath near his ear.

“Mine!” Cas hisses and then, abruptly as it began, he returns to his normal stance, humming as he grabs a box of raisin bran off the shelf behind Dean. He throws it into his cart and continues down the aisle, leaving a stupefied Dean in his wake. Dean stands there for several moments, blinking and slightly aroused, before hurrying after Cas.

“What the hell was that?!” He squawks, following a chuckling Castiel into the wine aisle.

Neither man notices the wide-eyed blond girl in a sweater vest, mouth hanging open, eagerly start shoving as many boxes of raisin bran as she can into her own cart.

 

*******

 

“So guess who I heard from?” Dean says a few weeks laters as he tosses together a caesar salad, which Cas on _insisted_ on adding to dinner ( _“I swear to God, Dean, you’re diet is 80% cow! A little roughage won’t kill you.” “... It might”_ ). The plan for the night was dinner and a David Fincher marathon.

“Who?” Cas asks, carefully taking the rolls out of the oven.

“Lisa. Braden.” Dean replies. Cas straightens and looks at Dean curiously.

“Really? What did she want?” he inquires.

“Just contacted me out of the blue on Facebook,” Dean says with a shrug. “She and her family-”

“Family?” Cas interrupts.

“Yeah, _family_. Kid and everything.” Dean clarifies, “they’re going to be passing through the city in a couple weeks and she was wondering if I wanted to meet up.” Cas grimaces as he drops a roll on each of their plates.

“Wonder why she didn’t contact me?” he mutters. Dean gives him a withering looks as he plates the salad.

“C’mon man, me and her _dated_ ,” he says. “You guys were barely friends.”

“We were friends, Dean!” Cas insists.

“Hardly. You were friends of convenience. Just because you had the same classes-”

“No, _actual_ friends. Hanging out and everything” Cas states flatly, narrowing his eyes.

“Then how come she never mentioned you to me?” Dean counters.

“Something tells me that when you two were together, there wasn’t much talking involved,” Cas responds sarcastically. Dean pulls a face and considers this.

“Well, you’ve got me there,” he concedes. “Look, if it makes you feel better, do you want me to call her up and see about you coming along?” Cas nods, opening the oven door and pulling the pan of chicken out. Dean pulls out his cellphone and walks idly into Cas’ living room. He holds the phone to his ear for a moment before a muffled greeting can be heard on the other line.

“Hey, Lisa, it’s Dean… Yeah, yeah, good. I’m really looking forward to it, too. That’s actually what I was calling about. I’m still in touch with Cas Novak and I know he’d love to see you…” Dean pauses and a voice can be heard talking on the other end. “Super. Sounds really good… Yeah, definitely… No, no, no… _Cas_ Novak. Castiel. Dark hair, blue eyes? Alpha?” Cas’ expression drops as he watches Dean turn away. He places the plates on the coffee table but doesn’t sit, waiting cautiously for Dean to finish his conversation.

“Are you sure? Because you two had a lot of classes together. You were actually the one who introduced us… Well, if you’re sure,” Dean turns back toward Cas, his grim expression abruptly breaking into a wry smirk.

“Dude, I’m fucking with you,” he giggles. “She hung up like 30 seconds ago, she’d love to see you.” Castiel glares at Dean, both angry and relieved.

“Asshole,” he mutters with a chuckle, throwing a dish towel at his head. Dean catches it easily.

“You’re laughing. You _know_ that was funny,” Dean says with a grin. “C’mon, pick a movie and let’s eat.”

 

*******

 

As they step into the Barnes and Noble, Castiel inhales deeply.

“Don’t you just love the smell of that?” He sighs. Dean sniffs tentatively at the air.

“What? Floor polish and coffee?” Cas gives Dean a withering look.

“Books, Dean,” he says flatly. “You’ve heard of them, right?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“You know I read more than you do.” Dean scoffs, “I just prefer to get my books the old-fashioned way: Amazon.” He grins playfully at Cas, who just shakes his head and follows Dean as they browse the new releases.

“What time is she supposed to be here?” Cas asks, opening the cover of one book and reading the summary. Dean glances at his phone.

“About now,” he mumbles.

“Dean!” a female voice calls out across the space. Dean looks up to see Lisa Braden striding over the hardwood floor, tugging a bundled up child behind her.

“Hey, Lisa,” Dean says brightly, leaning into a hug. Cas waits awkwardly until Lisa turns to him and envelops him in a hug as well.

“Hey Cas! It’s so good to see both of you!” She steps back and looks both of them up and down. “You both look exactly the same. You haven’t aged a day!”

“You look great as well, Lisa,” Dean says and it’s true. Lisa was always athletic; twice weekly yoga classes made sure of that, and it looks like things haven’t changed in that respect. Even with everything else, though, Lisa looks just as fresh-faced and lively as she did at 20.

“This is Ben,” Lisa says, pulling the boy around from behind her. The boy looks up at Dean and Cas and politely offers his hand.

“Nice to meet you, sirs,” he says, shaking both of their hands. He glances up at his mom. “Can I go play with the Lego table now.”

“How about you look at the books here until your dad gets inside?” She reasons. Ben shrugs but does as he is told. Lisa turns back to both of them and smiles.

“Should we grab a table?” She asks. They find a small table in the cafe near enough that Lisa can still keep an eye on Ben. Castiel gets to his feet.

“Why don’t I get the drinks. No, Lisa, you put away your money,” he says as she attempts to open her purse. “Dean? Americano?” Dean nods and Cas turns to Lisa.

“I would love a skinny latte, two pumps hazelnut,” she says.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Cas says as he walks off to the register. Dean glances at Lisa, raising an eyebrow.

“So you have a kid?” he asks.

“I do,” she replies. “He’s really great.”

“Yeah, he’s about, what? 9? 10 years old?” Dean inquires. “And we dated like… 10 years ago?” Lisa laughs loudly.

“God, Dean, you know that is scientifically impossible for two omegas.”

“Hey, miracles happen sometimes,” Dean says with a shrug. “Maybe I’m the next Virgin Mary.” Lisa snorts.

“I can’t imagine you being a virgin _anything_ ,” she chides. “Ben’s 8 actually, just tall for his age.”

“Your husband’s?” Dean asks.

“Yep, Matt,” Lisa answers. She lifts her head and looks toward the door, “there he is now.” She raises her hand and waves to a tall, sturdy-looking man coming through the entryway. He acknowledges her, walking over to their table.

“Hey sweetie,” he says, “where’s Ben?” Lisa points to where Ben is crouched against a bookshelf, reading a comic.

“Dean, this is Matt. Matt, Dean,” Lisa introduces. Matt looks wary as Dean rises to his feet to shake his hand.

“Dean was my ‘omega thing’ in college.” Lisa clarifies. At this information, Matt’s expression brightens.

“Oh yeah, Lisa’s told me about you,” he says. “How are you doing?” Before Dean can answer, Ben is tugging on his Dad’s jacket sleeve.

“He wants to play in the kid’s section,” Lisa says. “I told him that he could when you got here.”

“Ok buddy,” Matt says, pressing a hand to the boy’s back. “Let’s leave mom with her friends and go find the Legos.” As they disappear through the shelves, Dean glances at Lisa curiously.

“So I’m you _omega thing_ , huh?” He asks teasingly. Lisa huffs a laugh and shakes her head.

“Mentioning I wanted to meet up with an old boyfriend wasn’t well-received,” she offers.

“But saying it was your _omega_ boyfriend…?” Dean supplies, not needing to be told the rest.

“To be fair, I _do_ mention you sometimes,” she says. “Matt doesn’t seem to mind.”

“No, of course not,” Dean says sarcastically. “Bet he loves to hear everything. In graphic detail.” Lisa tries not to laugh but fails.

“Has he asked for you and another omega at once yet?” Dean asks. Lisa pokes a tongue into her cheek.

“I’m not going to say whether that topic has been brought up or not, but I will say that if it ever has, it has been effectively shot down.” She gives Dean a pointed look. He nods in understanding.

“So you and Cas, huh?” Lisa asks coyly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean mumbles absently, unsure of where this topic is headed.

“How long have you guys been together?” Dean’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“What?… Oh, no no no. We’re not… a couple,” he asserts. Lisa looks taken aback.

“Really? Because I thought from the…?” She trails off, circling a finger around the area on her neck, demonstrating where Dean’s mating mark lies.

“Ah!” Dean says, realizing where the misunderstanding came from. “Um, we’re both actually coming off of divorces.” Dean feels a bit guilty sharing Cas’ information for him, but he wants to nip this in the bud right now.

“We’re just friends,” he states. Lisa raises a brow at this.

“You are?” she asks, incredulously. “Because, as I remember, you always said that alphas and omegas can’t be friends.” Dean laughs humorlessly, wondering how long that is going to keep biting him in the ass.

“Yeah, you’re right. I did,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “But this is… it’s different, ok.”

“How so?” Lisa asks, letting her chin fall into her palm.

“It’s Cas!” Dean snorts, waving toward the counter where Castiel is saying something very deliberate and very specific to the barista. “He’s this… weird, dorky, little guy.” Lisa glances in Cas’ direction and then back at Dean.

“You sure about that?” she asks sardonically.

“Yeah,” Dean replies. “Why?” Lisa bites at her lips and shakes her head.

“Well then, you and I are seeing _very_ different things.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, brows furrowing. Lisa points a polished fingernail in Castiel’s direction.

“That there,” she states, “is a hot piece of alpha. If he’s single now, it won’t be long until someone snatches him up like _that_.” She snaps her fingers. Dean snorts derisively.

“Well good luck with that,” he mutters. “I’ve been encouraging him for four months to find someone. He just doesn’t seem to like them.” Dean sighs heavily, “I think he’s still hung up on his ex.” Lisa frowns sadly.

“She left him?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Dean admits, “It was messy.”

“Kids?”

“No, thank God!” Dean mutters. Lisa considers him for a long moment.

“What about you Dean?” She asks softly, indicating the spot on his neck. “What happened there?” Dean shakes his head absently.

“Nothing, it just… ran its course.” Lisa smirks doubtfully.

“Yeah, but who ended it?” she says, narrowing her eyes.

“It was mutual,” he states seriously. Lisa gazes down at her nails for a second before speaking up.

“In my experience, when someone says that, they are usually the one who was dumped.” Lisa looks up at him knowingly. Dean turns his gaze away, scratching idly at a mark on the table.

“It was mutual,” Dean insists quietly, but his voice has lost much of it’s fight. Lisa places a hand over Dean’s, stilling him.

“I told myself that for a long time, too, Dean,” she offers. “It doesn’t make it hurt less though.”

“I’m fine,” Dean looks her in the eye. “It’s been months. I’m not hurting.” Lisa looks at him, clearly not believing a word coming out of his mouth.

“Really?” She says, “because it’s clear to me that some part of you is.” Dean looks at her and opens his mouth, about to say something, when Cas hurries back to the table.

“Sorry, sorry, the barista messed up my order,” he mumbles, setting down their drinks. “I asked for fat free milk but with soy foam-”

“Oh my God! Does he still do that?” Lisa exclaims with a laugh.

“Every. Single. Time!” Dean chuckles. Lisa squares back her shoulders, putting on a serious face.

“Waiter, I’d like the grilled ham and cheese with a side of 1000 island, but please make sure the ham is honey ham, _not_ brown sugar ham,” Lisa imitates a perfect Castiel timbre, “and can you please grill it with mayonnaise instead of butter?”

“Waiter, I’d like the peach pie a la mode, but please don’t warm the pie,” Dean teases, reciting verbatim an order from last week. “I’d like strawberry ice cream instead of vanilla. If you don’t have strawberry, I’ll take the vanilla with a side of warmed carmel, but this time please do warm the pie.” Castiel doesn’t look amused as Dean and Lisa dissolve in a fit of laughter.

“I just like what I like,” he states unapologetically. Dean bumps him with his shoulder.

“We’re just trying to get your goat, Cas,” he says lightly. “Don’t worry, Lisa’ll find something to make fun of me for too.”

“You know it,” Lisa says, taking a sip of her coffee. Cas smiles and takes a tentative sip of his chai latte, listening quietly as the conversation steers toward other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost titled this chapter "Hot Piece of Alpha"


	7. You're going to love him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double blind date. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all my Sabriel shippers out there.
> 
> I finished my Reverse Bang rough draft, so this story will have the majority of my focus until it concludes. This is good since this chapter marks the end of everything I had pre-written, so from this point I'll be writing in real time.

“I don’t know about this Dean,” Sam whines as they step out of his apartment and onto the street.

“As many blind dates as you’ve set me up on, Sam, you can do this for me,” Dean replies. “Hell, you’re going to owe me for months for that Becky-chick alone.” Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I apologized for that,” he groans.

“She was ‘Misery’-style crazy, Sam!” Dean says as they walk toward the ‘L’ station, “and obsessed with you, I might add. I saved your life!” Dean can feel the epic bitch-face being shot his way without even looking at his brother and shakes his head.

“C’mon, it’s not going to be so bad,” he offers. “You and Cas have a lot in common. I really think you’re going to get along. Plus, he’s a hot piece of alpha.” Dean grins to himself as he uses Lisa’s terminology.

“If he’s so amazing, then why are you not going out with him?” Sam narrows his gaze at Dean.

“I told you,” Dean sighs, “we’re just friends.” They ascend the stairs onto the train platform.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, Sam!” Dean snaps, raising his voice over the scream of an arriving train. “Yes, I once said alphas and omegas can’t be friends, but Cas is… Cas is different, ok? He’s the exception to the rule.” Sam looks at his brother doubtfully as he inserts his card into the turnstile.

“I still don’t think I’m ready for this,” Sam says. Dean growls in exasperation, pushing through the turnstile and following after his brother to the platform.

“Sam, you are always saying that you can’t find a good alpha,” Dean states. “Do you really want to keep running back to a mated man who is about to have his… what, 4th pup?” It’s a low blow to bring up Luke, but it had taken months for him and Charlie to show how big a knothead Luke was and that he was _never going to leave his mate_.

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right,” Sam huffs as they board the train. They ride in silence for a few minutes until Sam finally speaks again.

“So why are you so convinced that I’ll like him?” He asks.

“You guys have a lot in common,” Dean shrugs. “You’re both really smart and kind of nerdy. You like… books,” Sam rolls his eyes, “I don’t know, Sam! I just have a _feeling_ -”

“A feeling?” Sam raises questioning brow.

“Yeah, a feeling!” Dean insists, “I think you guys would be really good together.” Sam snorts derisively and shakes his head.

“And I think you’d be really good for Cas, too,” Dean admits. “The guy is having a hard time getting out there, and he deserves someone… good.” Sam looks at his brother with a curious smile.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Sam,” Dean warns, staring straight ahead and trying to ignore him.

“You think I’d make a good mate,” Sam teases.

“Shut it, Sammy,” Dean mutters.

“Oh Dean,” Sam dramatically clutches at his heart, “I had no idea you felt this way. My feelings are so torn on the matter.”  
“We’re in public,” Dean hisses under his breath. Sam grips his shoulders tightly.

“Don’t deny your feelings, Dean,” he exclaims.

“Get off!” Dean tries to contain a laugh. He wiggles out of his grip, shaking his head and taking two wide strides away from a cackling Sam.

 

*******

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Gabriel says. “Your buddy Dean? That one?”

“I don’t know any others,” Cas mumbles, not turning his attention from the cab window.

“Does he even like alphas?” Gabriel asks as he adjusts the cuffs on his shirt for about the fifth time.

“Considering that he was mated to one, I should hope so,” Castiel answers, finally turning to face Gabe.

“I don’t know,” Gabe mutters. “Sometimes that really puts people off ‘em, especially omegas.” A dark growl rises from Castiel’s chest as a horrible voice whispers deep inside of him _wasn’t true for Amelia_. He fakes a cough, covering for the sound.

“I can assure you he likes alphas,” Cas says. “I’m pretty sure Dean likes everything.” Gabriel smirks at that.

“You speaking from experience, Castiel?” he inquires. Castiel glares at him, his face taking on a pinched expression.

“Of course not!,” he huffs. Gabriel raises his hands defensively.

“What? It’s an innocent question,” he says. “You spend a lot of time with Dean, I mean, I just assumed-”

“That what? That Dean and I have slept together?” Castiel bites out.

“Well… yeah,” Gabriel says. “I mean, an alpha and omega spend that much time together… There’s no way it’s ‘just friends’. Something has got to give.” Castiel laughs loudly and rubs at his eyes.

“Now see, _that_ is why you and Dean would be good together. You think alike.” Gabriel frowns in confusion. “He believes that alphas and omegas can’t be friends because sex will get in the way,” Cas clarifies.

“But aren’t you two friends?” Gabe asks, still frowning.

“We are.”

“But you haven’t had sex.”

“No.” Cas says flatly.

“So what’s going on there?” This gives Castiel pause. He hasn’t really ever dissected why or how his and Dean’s relationship works, but it does and he has never felt a need to question that. Castiel shakes his head.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Dean,” he replies. “I personally believe friendship between the genders can exist without a sexual aspect.” Gabriel shrugs but doesn’t reply, watching the city out of the cab window descend into twilight.

“So what can you tell me about, Dean-o?” Gabriel finally asks.

“Well, for one thing, never call him ‘Dean-o’,” Cas offers. “Um, let’s see… He’s 31, he writes for a Car website-”

“He’s into cars?” Gabriel perks up.  
“Understatement,” Castiel laughs. “He has this beautiful vintage Impala and if you get him started on it, he’ll talk your ear off.”

“Looks?” Gabe asks, gently bridging the subject. Castiel quirks his mouth to the side.

“He’s… uh, he’s good looking,” Cas says. “He’s tall, for an omega-”

“I like ‘em tall,” Gabriel says with a grin. “What else?”

“Um, Green eyes, blondish brownish hair, nice teeth. Wears a lot of plaid. It looks good on him though. Um, nice… face,” Castiel stammers. Gabriel sighs in exasperation.

“Just tell me this: Do _you_ think he’s good looking?” Gabriel asks. “And I don’t mean _‘is he generally aesthetically pleasing?’_ I mean if you were to see him on the street, right now, and not know who he is, would you find him attractive?” Castiel mulls this over seriously for a long moment before answering.

“Yeah, sure, I guess,” he replies. “I mean, he has a very symmetrical face.” Gabriel laughs loudly.

“Oh, Castiel,” he shakes his head ruefully, “only you.”

“Only me what?”

“Nevermind,” Gabe mumbles and turns his attention back to the car window.

 

*******

 

When they arrive at the restaurant, Sam and Dean are already waiting outside. Castiel has heard quite a lot about Dean’s brother, but he’s still taken aback by the sheer size of the man, who towers a full six inches above Castiel. He now understands why Dean occasionally refers to his brother as “Sasquatch.”

“You made it!” Dean says brightly as Castiel exits the cab. Gabe leans across the divider, handing a few bills to the driver and bidding him to keep the change before getting out himself. Castiel can’t help but smile at his friend’s wide-eyed reaction as he looks Dean up and down.

“You must be Dean?” Gabe says, offering his hand. Dean shakes it vigorously.

“Very nice to meet you, Gabe. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Dean turns towards the taller man, “this is my not-so-little brother, Sam. Sam, this is Castiel Novak.” Sam greets Cas with a warm handshake and has to lean down hilariously to do the same for Gabriel.

“They said our table will be ready in 15 minutes,” Dean offers. “I figured we’d wait here for you two, and then grab a drink at the bar until we’re called.”

“Sounds like a good plan, Dean-o,” Gabriel says. Castiel can see Dean flinch at the nickname and stifles a laugh as they enter the restaurant.

They each grab a beer and chat idly, the noise of the bar making it impossible to have a decent conversation. Castiel takes the opportunity to study Sam closely. His scent is pleasant and woodsey, and there is a spiciness to it familiar to Dean’s scent, which must have been a family trait. Castiel can see a vague resemblance between the brothers, but there is a slightly soft edge to Dean that most likely comes from him being omega. Castiel sips his beer and and shrugs; Sam is definitely more attractive than some of the dates he’s been on these last few months. Dean had said his brother was a beta who was only into alphas, and Castiel certainly fit the bill. Sam turns to Cas and says something to him, but Cas can’t hear him above the din of the bar.

“What?” Cas yells.

“I said I’m surprised that Dean didn’t pick a place that had pie,” Sam says louder, grinning brightly.

“Next time, I guess,” Cas replies and wonders if maybe it’s too early in the date to be making promises of a “next time”.

Across from them Dean and Gabe are talking animatedly and, from the gestures that Dean is making, no doubt Gabe asked him about his car. Dean catches his eye and gives a minute nod of approval. Castiel silently commends his own genius at the pairing.

“WInchester, party of four,” a voice booms out over the sound system. The four of them look at each other before rising from their spots at the bar and making their way into the dining area.

 

*******

 

The conversation lulls as they examine their menus. Sam turns to Cas, who is studying his menu closely.

“So what do you think you’re going to get, Castiel?” he asks, a bit awkwardly. Cas looks up, at a loss for words, when Dean pipes up.

“Oh god, don’t get Cas started,” he chuckles. “He will find a dish, and then order it in a way that not even the chef would’ve thought of.”

“I’ve been told I’m a bit picky,” Cas says with a bashful shrug.

“That’s the truth,” Gabriel mumbles.

“What do you think you’re going to get, Sam?” Cas asks, shifting back to the original topic. Sam blows out a puff of air and looks over the menu.

“Honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” Sam admits, patting his stomach. Cas’ expressions falters slightly, “no, I mean, everything looks really good, but I must’ve eaten half a cake this afternoon at work.” Dean looks at his brother dubiously.

“You? Cake?” he asks. “I thought you were allergic to anything that wasn’t crunchy and chock full of kale.”  

“Normally, I’m not that into sweets, but this _cake_ ,” Sam sighs dramatically, “it was like this key lime cake with a coconut cream frosting-”

“Coconut? ew?” Dean interupts.

“And it had this dark chocolate rum drizzle,” Sam’s eyes go large and glassy at the memory. “I swear I could’ve eaten the whole thing. It was… transcendent.” Dean shakes his head.

“I don’t know man, coconut and lime cake?” he mutters. “Now Coconut cream pie-”

“I made that cake,” Gabriel interjects. All three men turn and look at him.

“Get out,”  Sam says with a grin.

“No really, that’s my cake!” Gabriel insists. “I run a bakery, that’s what I do, and that cake is my specialty. No one else in the city makes a dark chocolate rum drizzle.” Sam stares at Gabriel dumbfounded.

“You’ve got to be kidding? You made that?” He gapes. Gabe nods and chuckles lightly.

“You work at a law firm, right? Campbell, Crowley and Roman. It was for a girl named… Ava’s birthday, right?” Sam nods enthusiastically, “yeah, that is my cake. You totally ate my baking.” Sam laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Wow, man, I mean… Like I said, I don’t eat a lot of sweets, ask Dean, but I inhaled that cake,” Sam gushes. “It was amazing!”

“You know, you’ve already paid me the biggest compliment,” Gabe replies. “I’ve never had anyone brag about my baking _to me_ , so… Thank you very much.” Cas and Dean sit awkwardly while Gabe and Sam talk excitedly.

“Y’know, uh, Gabe makes pie too,” Cas pipes up. “Dean loves pie.” Gabe looks over to Dean and gives a friendly, half-hearted nod as their waitress approaches the table.

 

*******

 

“So, Sam,” Cas starts as they dig into their meals, “Dean tells me you’re a lawyer.” Sam nods as he pops a croquette into his mouth.

“Yeah, I am,” he replies, “it’s… ok.”

“Are you a defense attorney or…?” Cas presses.

“I’m actually doing contract law,” Sam sighs. “I’m still a junior associate and… well, shit rolls downhill, if you catch my drift.” Cas frowns, trying to think of a way to move the conversation to something more pleasant.

“What do you want to do?” Gabriel asks softly. Sam glances at him, thinking for a moment before speaking.

“I’ve been applying to the State Attorney’s office since I passed the bar, but the competition is so high, it’ll be nearly impossible.” Sam says glumly, “I mean, when I went to law school I was hoping to make some sort of impact. I did not see myself working 80 hours a week in corporate law, wading through mountains of legal jargon.” The atmosphere of the table drops and Dean glances at Cas, a pleading look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood,” Sam apologizes. “It’s just a bit embarrassing. I just want to make a difference.” Gabriel  considers Sam carefully, taking a long sip off of his wine glass.

“I could put a good word in for you,” he offers. Sam looks at Gabe, brows drawn tight.

“What are you talking about?”

“I have a friend in the States Attorney’s office,” Gabe says casually. “Frat brother actually. Raphael Angelo?.” Sam’s mouth drops open.

“You’re frat brother is the State’s Attorney?!” Sam exclaims.

“Now he is,” Gabe snorts. “I’m pretty sure I paddled him during Greek Week one year.” Sam just looks at Gabe in shock.

“I… I can’t let you call in a favor for me,” he says. “That’s a lot.” Gabe waves him off dismissively.

“Please, it’s not a big deal,” he responds. “I’ve seen the kids he has at that office. Not one of them gives an iota of a shit. You, on the other hand, obviously care quite a lot and that could be huge boon.”

“Dude, I can’t have you get me a job,” Sam says, looking away shyly.

“Fine! I’ll just get you an interview then,” Gabe says flippantly. “No harm with a little leg up.” Sam grins at Gabe and murmurs a quiet thank you. Gabe just smirks warmly and tucks back into his dinner.

Dean looks at Cas, raising a confused eyebrow. Cas just shakes his head and shrugs, continuing to eat his meal.

 

*******

 

As they leave the restaurant, Gabriel pulls at Castiel’s arm, encouraging him to hang back as the Winchesters walk ahead.

“Uh… Cas?” he asks. “What do you think of Sam?” Castiel  frowns at the question, not sure what Gabriel is getting at.

“Um, he’s nice,” he answers. “Seems like a good guy.”

“Are you planning on seeing him again?” Gabe asks, his eyes pleading. Castiel hesitates for a moment, honestly unsure of the answer. Sam was… fine. He was a decent guy, but Castiel didn’t feel a whole lot of chemistry between them. Still, Sam could grow on Castiel.

“I don’t really know,” Cas replies honestly. “I guess if he called me-”

“Because I was hoping to ask Sam out myself,” Gabriel rushes out.   
“Oh… Ok,” Cas stammers, confused. Sure, Gabe’s interactions with Dean hadn’t been as enthusiastic as his with Sam, but he thought they’d gotten along. “What about Dean, though?”

“Dean’s alright,” Gabe replies with a shrug. “But I didn’t really feel a spark there. You… you don’t mind, right?”

“No, no, of course not,” Castiel insists. “I’m… just concerned for Dean, y’know? He’s still a bit… uh, fragile right now and I don’t want to heap too much rejection on him.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure sure,” Gabe agrees. “I can wait a little while before calling Sam.” Cas nods and gives Gabe a tight smile as they hurry to catch up with the Winchesters.

 

*******

 

Dean glances behind, noticing Gabriel pulling Cas to the side to talk. He pulls his coat tighter around himself as he and Sam continue to walk down the street.

“So, Gabe’s cool,” Sam mumbles. Dean shrugs non-committedly.

“Yeah, he seems alright,” he replies. The truth is Dean has no idea why Cas thought he and Gabriel would make a good pair. Sure Gabe is upbeat and friendly, but he definitely has one of those “small doses” personalities. Plus, he doesn’t know how to drive a car, which is sacrilege in Dean’s book.

“You think you’re going to ask to see him again?” Sam asks, shyly shuffling his feet as he walks. This is Sam’s “tell” and Dean can already see that Sam wants to say something that he’s worried might piss Dean off. Probably that he thinks Gabe is a loud-mouth douchebag or something.

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s not like-”

“Would you mind if I did?” Sam says quickly, looking back at his brother with hopeful eyes. Dean stops in his tracks. The thought of Sam and the president of the Lollipop Guild hooking up seem ludicrous and slightly disgusting to Dean, however after the string of knotheads Sam has dated in the past, maybe someone who is the polar opposite of that would be good for Sam.

“I don’t really care,” Dean offers, “but can you wait a little while? I mean, Cas is still coming off of his break-up and I don’t think anymore rejection would do him much good.” Sam nods emphatically.

“Of course, yeah,” he agrees. Castiel and Gabriel take quick strides to catch up with them as they continue down the block.

“So the night is still young,” Dean says, breaking the silence between them. “Do you guys want to go grab a drink? I know this great piano bar-”

“Actually, I’m pretty tired,” Sam interrupts. “I think I might just call a cab.”

“I’ll split one with you,” Gabe offers quickly. Before either Cas or Dean can say another word, Sam and Gabriel are crowding into a cab together and slamming the door. They stand on the sidewalk in stunned silence as they watch it drive down the street and disappear around the corner.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean says under his breath. He turns to Cas, ready to apologize, but just finds him hiding a giggle behind his hand.

“Should have seen that coming,” Cas says. He looks at Dean ruefully, “I’m sorry, Dean.” Dean holds up his hands, dismissing it.

“Eh, no worries,” Dean responds. “Do you want to head home or do you feel like staying out a bit longer.”

“I heard you say something about a piano bar?” Cas raises a questioning eyebrow. Dean grins and tips his head to the side, walking in the same direction. It’s quiet between them until they board the train a few minutes later.

“You know what?” Dean says. “I don’t feel too bad about tonight. We did a good thing.”

“Hooking Gabe up with your brother?”

“Yeah, why not,” Dean shrugs. “I mean, Sam’s usually into douchebags, but Gabriel seems significantly less douchey than he could’ve been.” Castiel laughs genuinely at this.

“Well, that’s a pretty high compliment for Gabe,” he admits.

“And, hey, if they work out, awesome!” Dean continues. “We’ve played matchmaker.”

“And if they don’t work out?” Cas asks.

“We have a really funny story and guilt we can hold over them.” Castiel’s bark of laughter is drowned out as the train rattles down the track.

 

 


	8. I've Got Your Picture, He's Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's worse then running into an ex? Running into their new mate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late. Holiday Season and work craziness are to blame.
> 
> Chapter title comes from the song "He's Got You" by Jimmy Buffet

**New Year’s Eve 2013**

 

Cas holds two fingers in his mouth, takes a deep breath and attempts to whistle into the night air.

“No, no, Cas! You’re not doing it right. You’re just drooling over you hand,” Dean laughs, holding his hand up in an ‘OK” sign. “You have push your index finger and thumb up against your tongue and blow through the small hole at the bottom.” He demonstrates, a high pitched whistle echoing into the night.

“I don’t think this is working, Dean,” Cas says, pulling spit-covered fingers from his mouth. He wipes them on his jeans before they freeze in the cold air. Dean snorts and shakes his head before taking a deep swig off the bottle of Fireball whiskey. He passes it over to Castiel, who takes a long pull.

This wasn’t how he’d expected to spend his New Year’s Eve.

Originally, He and Gabriel had agreed to co-host a party at Gabe’s place followed by watching the fireworks over Navy Pier at midnight. However, Gabe flaked when he and Sam had decided to take an impromptu trip to the Bahamas in celebration of Sam landing a position at the State Attorney’s office. Cas doesn’t blame Gabriel that much. He and Sam are still deeply in the Honeymoon stage of the relationship, and Castiel remembers doing similar things with Amelia early in their mating.

Dean volunteered to step in and take over Gabriel’s hosting duties, but Cas declined. He admitted that it had mostly been Gabriel’s desire for a party, and he would prefer something a bit more low-key.

Which is how they ended up on the roof, sitting on top of a utility cabinet, with Dean trying to teach Castiel how to wolf whistle.

“Not everyone can do it, I guess,” Dean says, tugging the beanie Cas knit him for Christmas down over his ears and pulling a glove out of his coat pocket and putting back on his hand.

“Thanks for trying, at least,” Cas replies with a shrug. Dean smiles at him and slaps him on the back before pulling out his cell phone and checking the time.

“Looks like we have 10 more minutes left,” he says. Cas hums in response, admiring the glittering skyline. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to see fireworks this far out.”

“That’s fine,” Cas mumbles. “I like how peaceful it is.”

“Won’t be that way for long,” Dean mutters, taking a sip from the bottle. “Have any New Year’s Resolutions?” Cas tilts his head and considers this.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I never really think about it. Seems like a set up for failure.” Dean glances at Cas curiously and laughs, shaking his head.

“Eh, you might be right on that one,” he mutters, words slightly slurred. “Is there anything you hope is different next year?” Cas quirks his mouth to the side.

“Have a better year,” he says quietly. “This year was… it was just…”

“Shitty,” Dean supplies with a snort.

“Well, yeah,” Cas says, grabbing the bottle from Dean and taking a long pull. “Mate leaves me after 6 years together, dead-end job, string of bad dates… I mean, next year can’t get any worse, right?”

“Famous last words, man,” Dean mutters, leaning back on his elbows and staring at the night sky. “The year wasn’t all bad, though, right? I mean… We met.” Cas snorts.

“We met a decade ago Dean,” he corrects.

“Yeah, but I mean we got to know each other,” Dean clarifies. “We’re friends, y’know?’ Dean glances at Cas and he has to wonder how on earth Dean’s mossy eyes seem to glimmer, even in the dark.

“Yeah, Dean, I guess you’re a bright spot in an otherwise shitty year.” Cas laughs with as much good humor as he can manage.

“You know what?” Dean asks, sitting up quickly. “Next year, we’re going to do something cool on New Year’s.” Cas looks at Dean wearily.

“I don’t know, Dean. I hate forced New Year’s Eve fun,” Cas groans. “It’s always so… Cringe-inducing.”

“No, no, I’m not talking about forced fun,” Dean says, shaking his hands in front of himself drunkenly. “I mean actual cool stuff. _Not_ a party.” Castiel raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs. “Something different like skydiving, or bungee jumping or streaking.” Castiel throws his head back and laughs loudly.

“I am not running naked through Chicago in December,” he asserts. Dean chuckles and shakes his head.

“Just something out of the ordinary,” he says. “But no matter what, we won’t flake on each other like Gabe or my knot-whipped brother.” Dean smiles to himself and drains the rest of the Fireball. Cas looks at him and tilts his head.

“Alright, plans then,” he says holding out a pinky in Dean’s direction. Dean glares down at the digit before him.

“What are you…?”

“Pinky promise,” Cas clarifies. Dean looks at him incredulously.

“Are we going to braid each other’s hair next, Cas?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“Just pinky swear on it, you asshole,” Cas sighs. Dean hooks his pinky with Cas’ and they shake them once.

“What about you?” Cas asks as they release their fingers. "Do you have any resolutions?”

“Me?” Dean asks, pointing at himself dramatically. “I don’t know. It’s hard to improve on perfection.” Cas snorts and shoves Dean’s shoulder playfully.

“Seriously,” Cas asks. Dean shrugs.

“I guess get in better shape, read more, you know… the normal ones,” Dean offers. Cas nods, but he is slightly confused over Dean’s need to “get in better shape”. Dean looks fine as he is, there’s no room for improvement.

“C’mon man,” Dean says, pulling Castiel toward the stairway door. “Let’s grab another bottle of something and see if we can spot the fireworks over the lake.” Cas follows Deen down the stairs, enjoying the soft warmth of his buzz. Dean finds a bottle of ten-dollar champagne and they both choke it back, straining to see the fireworks and belting out Bon Jovi Songs until Castiel loses his dinner over the side of the building.

After that, Cas is only vaguely aware of Dean walking him back into his building and depositing him on the couch, tucking him in and pulling the blanket up to his chin.

Cas wakes the next morning, mouth tasting of cinnamon and gravel, next to a glass of water and two motrin.

 

*******

 

Dean was wrong about IKEA being Hell. Clearly, Bed Bath and Beyond holds that honor.

“Why do they have a registry? They are two grown men. They _have_ everything,” Dean gripes as he and Cas walk through the home goods. “They are just being greedy.”

“It’s traditional,” Cas replies, glancing at the list and turning down the aisle for kitchenware. Sam and Gabe had delayed their Mating Party until they’d settled into their new place in the late spring, doubling it as a Housewarming Party.

“It’s sociopathic!” Dean counters. “‘We love you all. We want you to be a part of this wonderful time in our lives. Please buy us only these exact gifts.” Cas tries to hide a laugh, but Dean still sees it.  

“Do you want to go halves on a pan set?” Cas asks, trying to change the subject. Dean rolls his eyes. If it were up to him, he’d buy his brother a subscription to “Hot Ass Alphas Monthly” as a housewarming gift. However, he’d agreed to split whatever cost with Cas and he doubts he’d agree to gifting porn.

Dean glances over Castiel’s shoulder at the registry, rolling his eyes at the listed item. The whole thing smacks of Gabriel and a grab for free stuff: a $500 espresso machine, $350 Copper Pots, a $200 bluetooth shower speaker. Dean frowns; nothing on the list seems interesting or exciting enough to give Sam until he spots the last item and his eyes light up.

“Cas, stay right there!” He orders excitedly, dashing off through the aisles. Castiel frowns and watches Dean scamper away. He is trying to estimate the cost value of the different types of Teflon cookware when something hits him on the back of the head.

Cas looks down to see a small, white object lying on the floor at his feet. He raises his head to see Dean take aim and fire another object squarely at his forehead.

“Oh, headshot!” Dean cries out. Cas rolls his eyes.

“Dean, put away the popcorn shooter!” he sighs in exasperation.

“It a mini-marshmallow shooter, Cas,” Dean corrects, firing another one at his head. Cas flinches as it hits him on the side of the face.

“Dean, would you please-” Another marshmallow hits him on the nose followed by Dean’s joyful cry of ‘bullseye’. “Dean, stop it! We don’t have time to screw around, now help me pick something off the list.”

“Oh, but these are on the list,” Dean grins, holding up a pair of marshmallow shooters. “Look.” Cas scrolls down the registry and, sure enough, ‘mini marshmallow shooters’ next to a number ‘2’ is listed at the bottom. Leave it to Gabe to add toys to his housewarming registry.

Another marshmallow sails past Castiel’s head and Dean curses. Cas rolls his eye and folds the list into his back pocket.

“C’mon then, let’s get in line to pay for them,” Cas jerks his head toward the front checkout. Dean frowns in confusion.

“But Cas,” Dean gasps in mock surprise, “we can’t buy them without testing them out.” He throws a shooter at Castiel who catches it in one hand, “think fast!” A marshmallow comes flying toward Cas’ face, but he manages to duck it at the last second.

“Dean, we don’t-” Cas ducks a marshmallow, “we don’t-” he ducks again. “You’re acting like a-” two marshmallows hit him in the cheek. “Oh you are fucking dead!” Dean giggles excitedly as Cas starts launching marshmallows at him.

“Whoa-ho, nice try there, Alpha,” Dean teases as he ducks Castiel’s attack. “But you’re going to have to try a little harder- Ah! that got me in the eye!” Cas bites back a laugh and Dean immediately retaliates, pummeling Cas with mini-marshmallows. Cas sprints down an aisle and Dean goes after him quickly, only to stop abruptly when he runs into Cas’ back.

“Ouch! Cas, man, geez!” Dean gripes after he bounces off of Cas’ back. “You can’t just stop like that in the middle of the-”

“Amelia,” Cas mutters under his breath.

“What?” Dean grouses, not understanding what Cas is saying.

“Amelia,” he repeats lower, lifting his chin in the direction he’s looking. Dean follows his gaze to where it falls on a pretty, petite blond omega looking through curtain samples with a dark-haired alpha man.

“Oh,” Dean says softly, grabbing hold of Cas’ arm and beginning to turn him around. “Come on, let’s go check out and-”

“Castiel?” Too late.

Amelia approaches Dean and Cas, who stands so still he puts plaster statues to shame. The dark-haired man follows her and Dean can only assume this is her new alpha, judging by the way he hovers over her. Dean chances a glance at Amelia’s neck, where two bite marks, similar yet drastically different, sit on opposite sides of her neck. Dean has never seen Amelia before, not even in photographs. Castiel never shared personal details about her and Dean had never ventured to ask; it didn’t seem polite. One night, out of drunken curiosity, he had tried to find her Facebook profile, but after the 20th page of results, he’d given up.

Now, face to face with the omega, Dean doesn’t see what the big deal is. Sure, she’s pretty and petite, the perfect ideal of what an omega should be, but there is nothing extraordinary about her, at least from the outside. Dean has known dozens of omegas and betas who were far more lovely or striking or just up to the caliber that Cas is as an alpha. For Cas to be so emotionally hung-up on a woman who looks like she is simply a dime a dozen seems unbelievable.

(Dean chooses to ignore a tiny voice in the back of his head crowing softly _“You only think she’s unremarkable because she hurt Cas!”_ )

“Hello, Amelia,” Castiel finally croaks out, setting the marshmallow shooter on a nearby shelf. Dean follows suit and does the same, “Um… uh, how are you?” Cas’ eyes are wide and anxious. Dean takes a quick sniff, but his scent is hard to read, like there are two many emotions fighting to dominate the moment.

“I’m fine, really good,” Amelia says warmly, smiling at Cas. She gestures to the alpha with her, “oh, this is, uh… Jimmy.” Jimmy the alpha smiles tightly at them. Cas’ eyes go wider and Dean immediately smells a spike of anger in Cas’ scent, instinctually placing a hand on Cas’ arm. He shakes his head out of his stupor.

“Um… This is Dean,” Cas’ offers, gesturing toward Dean. Dean nods and gives a small expression he hopes is close enough to a smile.

The four of them stand there awkwardly as Amelia and Cas trade stilted words back and forth regarding mutual friends.

“Amelia,” Jimmy touches her arm and lifts up his wrist, indicating the time. She nods and turns back to Cas.

“We have to get going,” she says. “It was nice seeing you again, Castiel. Take care.” They disappear down an aisle, leaving Dean and a frozen Cas standing there in silence. Cas blinks several times, scent quickly returning to normal.

“Cas?” Dean asks, not getting a reaction. “Cas!” He reaches out for his arm and the other man jumps at the touch.

“What? Yeah, um… Let’s go but these,” he huffs out quickly, grabbing the marshmallow shooters off the shelf. Dean follows close behind, watching Cas carefully.

“Are you ok, man?” He asks as they get checked out by the cashier.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas responds, sounding fairly robotic.

“Are you sure?” Dean raises an eyebrow. “Because for a second, your scent went off the charts.” Cas turns to Dean and smiles a strange, disquieting smile.

“I’m fine,” Cas reassures. “Just fine.” Dean wants to push the issue, because clearly Cas is not, but every attempt is blocked.

They leave the Bed Bath and Beyond and throw the marshmallow shooters and the gift bag into the back seat of the Impala. Cas is silent the entire ride, attention focused on the the view outside the passenger window.

 

*******

 

“Dean, stop your brother!” Gabe pleads as he throws opens the front door of his and Sam’s apartment. “I might be an Alpha, but I’m small and I can only do so much to control six-foot-four-inches of moose.”

‘What’s going on?” Dean asks, gently placing the gift bag by the door.

“He’s been cleaning the house for two days. He’s obsessed.” Gabe sighs, leading them down the hallway. “I’ve tried telling him that it’s just close friends and he doesn’t have to be Martha Stewart, but he won’t listen. I’m afraid he’s going to start stripping the paint off the walls.”

“Gabe!” Sam yells from somewhere in the house. “This has to go!” Cas and Dean follow him as he rushes into the spacious, open living room.

Sam is standing, arms akimbo, in front of a large painting frowning deeply.

“This is a problem. This has to go.” He states, eyes not leaving the offending picture.

“What?!”  Gabe gasps. “We can’t get rid of that! It’s a classic!”

“It’s ‘Dogs Playing Poker,’” Sam deadpans.

“It’s art!” he counters.

“It clashes with everything in this house,” Sam turns to his mate with a pleading expression. “Gabe, we paid a lot of money for a very high-end interior designer, and now you want to ruin all of her hard work with…” he waves his hand at the picture, “this thing!”

“I’ve had it for years!” Gabe insists. “Look, can’t we just put it in another room or something?”

“No, please,” Sam scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, we managed to work around that jukebox you love and I didn’t say a word when you wanted to keep that couch that looks like a pair of lips, but this thing is clearly a garage sale find-”

“Well, yeah,” Gabe agrees. “That’s why it’s priceless; It’s one of a kind!”

“Thank God,” Sam mutters under his breath. “It’s not even a good reproduction. It looks like it was someone’s paint-by-numbers.”

“C’mon Sam,” Gabe pleads. He turns to Cas and Dean, “C’mon, help me out, will ya’? Cas, you like it, right?” Cas is glancing out the window and Dean has to nudge him after a moment to get his attention.

“What? uh… uh, yeah, sure,” he mumbles, eyes flicking to the floor, still very distracted.

“And Dean will agree with me, too,” Gabe says. “Right, Dean?” He glances at the older Winchester who scrutinizes the picture carefully.

“Sorry, man, but I have to side with Sam on this one.” Gabe sticks his tongue out at Dean and turns back to Sam. “Two against Two… Look, Sam, what is it going to take for you to leave this alone?” Sam exhales heavily and closes his eyes in exasperation.

“Y’know, I remember doing things like this,” Cas interrupts with a chuckle. “You get mated and you do all the normal couple-y things: pick out furniture, discuss decor....” Cas sighs and his expression turns quickly dour.

“But you know what happens? Six years later you end up with Marshmallows in your hair in front of Jimmy!” Cas voice rises to a growl at the end. Dean lays a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“Cas, I know you're upset, but now’s not the time-”

“What’s wrong with right now?” Cas barks, jerking away from Dean’s grasp. “I’m just trying to shed some light on what these two have to look forward to! Everything is great now, but sooner or later that… that little laugh that you think is so cute won’t be cute anymore and you’re not going to have the balls to tell him, so that hate is just going to grow and fester until you lose it!” Cas seethes silently as all three watch him in alarm. Cas takes a step forward and calmly clasps one of Sam and Gabes hands each.

“Can you guys do me a favor?” His voice eerily composed. “Write your name in your books now, before you end up paying a lawyer $2,000 over a fucking copy of “Eat, Pray, Love!” Cas’ anger sours the air and both Gabe and Sam have to cover their mouths. Dean stands there, watching helplessly as his friend vents over a year of frustrations.

“In the end, it’s not going to matter whether you like something or not, you’re going want it just to spite the other person!” Cas’ voices rises as he stalks around the room. “You are going to fight over who gets that peice of shit, two-dollar painting!”

“You said you liked it,” Gabe mumbles forlornly.

“I was being nice!” Cas growls as he stomps out of the room. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoes through the apartment. Dean stands for a moment in stunned silence before looking to Sam and Gabe regretfully.

“He, um… He ran into Amelia today,” he offers before following Cas out the front door.

As they watch Dean leave, Sam turns to Gabe, his expression sweet and apologetic, and takes him into his arms.

“Baby, I swear,” Sam says, resting his chin on top of Gabe’s head, “I will never want that painting.”

 

*******

Dean finds Cas sitting on the curb outside of the apartment, rubbing at his temples.

“I know, I know,” Cas mutter, preemptively. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Dean drops down besides him.

“You think?” he chides. “Look, Cas, man, you have got to find a better way to deal with your emotions, some sort of outlet-”

“You’re one to talk, Dean,” Cas snorts.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dean asks. Cas turns and looks at Dean ruefully.

“I mean that I have never seen you express one iota of pain or sadness or anger or regret over your divorce!” Cas lists off each item on his fingers as he talks. Dean stares at Cas incredulously for a long moment.

“I’m fine,” he huffs.

“Are you? Really?” Cas asks, getting to his feet, his scent rising again in anger. “You’re not supposed to be ‘fine’ when your mate leaves you! You’re supposed to be upset!”

“You know it wasn’t like that!” Dean growls, jumping up. “And I don’t know what to tell you Cas!” Dean throws his hands up in the air. “Maybe because I’m able to vent my frustrations rather than explode at my friends!”

“You mean by sleeping with most of Cook County?” Cas snarls sarcastically. “I’m sorry, Dean, but sexual activity is not a substitute for therapy.” Dean flinches and his eyes narrow.

“How and Who I spend my time with is none of your concern,” Dean hisses. “Let’s not forget, you were the one who encouraged me to get out there to begin with. Just because you can’t seem to get past Amelia is not an excuse for you to slut-shame me, you stupid fucking asshole!” Dean seethes as the scent of indignation rolls off him in waves. Cas watches him, jaw twitching minutely.

“Are you done?” He asks.

“Yes,” Dean replies flatly. In an instant, Cas steps forward and scoops up Dean in a tight hug, mumbling apologies into Dean’s shoulder. Dean stiffens at first, before leaning into the embrace and hugging back, pressing his chin over Cas’ shoulder. His scent is deep and regretful and it makes Dean light-headed.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas mumbles.

“Thank you,” Dean says softly. “Don’t do it again.” He feels Cas shake his head no, before pulling back and looking at Dean. His eyes are large and watery, and Dean can feel the last of his anger evaporating at the pitiful sight.

“How do you do it, Dean?” He asks quietly. “When does it… When am I going to feel like myself again?” Cas hangs his head and Dean instinctively reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

“Just… fake it ‘til it’s real,” he offers. Cas snorts, and smiles at Dean gratefully.

“I guess I need to apologize to Sam and Gabe before anyone else arrives,” he mumbles. They turn to walk back to the apartment when they see Gabe dragging the “Dogs Playing Poker” down the front steps. Dean catches his eye and raises a questioning brow.

“Do. Not. Say. One. Word.” He mutters, shaking his head and continuing to the curb.

 


	9. No One Moves, No One Gets Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds Michael's Facebook page and makes an unpleasant discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [song of the same name](http://youtu.be/Et9llKBJdEs) by We Are Scientists  
> ... And now the chapter in which we earn our 'E' rating. In the immortal words of [Jessi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/pseuds/Jessi) "Merry Christmas, perverts!"

Since running into Amelia and Jimmy two days ago, Castiel once again regressed to manic-cleaning of his apartment. The carpet has been vacuumed raw, every base board has been wiped down and his tub has been cleaned so thoroughly that the chrome on the faucet is beginning to wear off.  

Despite what Dean said, Cas actually _is_ over his ex-mate. When she’d first left, a stray bobby pin on the floor would send him reeling. Last week, however, he cleaned her collection of old make up, sunscreens and maxi pads out from under the bathroom sink and dropped them down the trash chute without blinking an eye. Even Dean would call that progress.

It was only the shock of seeing her and that ( _asshole_ ) alpha Jimmy that caught him off guard. If Amelia was going to leave him, she could have at least done it for someone who wasn’t nearly identical to him.

It was clear as day: blue eyes, roughly the same height, deep voice. The only noticeable difference, was that Jimmy seemed to have some sort of control over his hair. The whole thing is so surreal, it almost makes Castiel laugh. He supposes Amelia has a type.

Cas stops cleaning and sighs, looking at the digital clock on his stove which reads 9:30 pm. He rubs at his forehead with the back of a rubber-gloved hand.   
Even with all of the Amelia-drama, it’s still no excuse for what he said to Dean.

Despite the fact that Dean said he accepted Cas’ numerous apologies, and Dean’s enthusiastic attempt to have fun at the party, Castiel wasn’t so quick to believe that he and Dean were “cool”. They hadn’t spoken since that day, and Cas was pretty sure he struck a nerve with the omega. He doesn’t blame Dean for being upset with him; if the roles were reversed, Castiel would have probably had a far worse reaction than Dean did.

As he pulls off his gloves, he decides that the best course of action is to give Dean one more day of space before calling and perhaps showing up with an apology pie. Cas smiles to himself; that’ll probably work.

He’s storing cleaning supplies under the sink, when his phone comes to life with Dean’s ringtone (“Immigrant Song” per his request). Cas glances at the phone, a feeling of relief washing over him as he answers it.

“Hello, Dean,” he greets. He’s met with silence and a soft noise that he swears sounds like a sniff.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice is coarser than normal; he sounds upset. Cas stands up straight, instantly on alert.

“Dean? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Cas says. There is another sniff and a soft cough.

“Are you home?” Dean asks, voice shaking slightly. Cas nods before he remembers that Dean can’t see him and answers in the affirmative. “Can I come up? I’m outside.”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Cas mumbles, crossing the room to his front door to buzz Dean inside. It’s a few minutes before there’s a knock on the door. Castiel opens it and is instantly hit by the scent of ‘omega’ and ‘sorrow’. Dean stands in the doorway, shoulders slumped, eyes red and raw, avoiding Castiel’s gaze.

“Dean,” Cas says carefully. He wants to dive right into the questions about why Dean’s upset and if there is anything he can do, but he’s more worried about scaring Dean off.

“He has a new mate,” Dean mumbles, “and they’re having a pup.”

“Who?” Castiel asks, brow furrowed in confusion, thinking for a moment he’s talking about Sam and Gabe.

“Michael!” Dean yells, stepping past Cas into the apartment. “He got re-mated and now he’s having a…” Dean can’t finish, his words trailing off into a sniffle.

“You talked to Michael?” Cas asks, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

“No, I… I was just…” Dean flops down onto Cas’ couch, sinking into the cushions. “Do you have any liquor? I can’t talk about this sober.” Castiel is already in his kitchen, pulling a couple of beers out of the fridge. He’d already guessed that Dean would ask for something. He presses the bottle into Dean’s waiting hand and sits down beside him, ready to listen. Dean sits and rubs at his temples.

“After our… thing, fight, whatever, I don’t know. I kept thinking about what you said-”

“Dean, I want to apologize again,” Castiel rushes out. “I did not mean any of that. It was stupid to say-”

“I know, I know, I don’t care about that,” Dean waves his hand in the air dismissively. “I kept thinking about what you said about… dealing with it, y’know… handling my breakup.” Cas nods, fighting back the instinctive alpha-urge to reach out and hold Dean, to fix things.

“I don’t know, I guess I needed to prove to myself that I was fine and…Over him, y’know.?” Dean continues.

“So you called him,” Cas supplies. Dean shakes his head.

“No,” he says, reaching into his back pocket and pulling his cell phone out. He offers it in Cas’ direction, “look.” Cas takes the phone and swipes it open. The screen immediately brightens to a Facebook page with the name “Michael Cohen” across it. The cover photo features a tall, serious-looking man who Cas can only assume to be Michael. Under his arm is a blondish, slim guy with large doe eyes, smiling brightly at the camera and holding up an ultrasound photo.

“You found his Facebook,” Cas says, glancing up at Dean. He scrolls down Michael’s profile, seeing more pictures of the smiling blond guy, including one where he shows off a very fresh mating mark.

“His name is Adam,” Dean nods toward the phone. “He’s a medical student.”

“A student?”

“Yeah, the kid barely looks out of diapers, right?” Dean fumes. “It wasn’t even a year. I didn’t… I mean, he lied! He just turns around and picks up the first twink omega he sees!” Dean grabs his phone back and shoves it into the pocket of his jacket. He let’s his head fall into his hands and scratches his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that he didn’t want pups. He didn’t want them with _me_.” Dean mumbles sadly, lifting his head just as a single tear trails down his cheek. Castiel reaches over, putting his arm around Dean comfortingly. “What’s wrong with me Cas?”

“Nothing,” Cas insists sincerely. His heart aches for his friend; Dean was too warm, too lovable a person to be treated so shabbily. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Why didn’t he want my pups then?” Dean asks in frustration. “I was a good mate. I did everything I was supposed to do for my alpha, I…” A sob sticks in Dean’s throat and he digs his face into Cas’ shoulder. Cas squeezes him in tighter and rubs at Dean’s arm.

“You asked me how I do it,” Dean’s tries to control the tremor in his voice. “The answer is I don’t. I pretend it doesn’t exist until it hits me smack in the face and this happens.” Cas doesn’t say anything, just continues to rub Dean’s arm and be something for him to lean on.

“Dean, you are a great friend. The best friend,” Cas assures after a long minute of silence, leaning his head against Dean’s. “I have no doubt you were a wonderful mate.”

“I’m stubborn!”

“But in a good way,” Cas tries to counter.

“I’m crude and don’t act like an appropriate omega,” Dean pouts.

“Yeah, but it’s charming.” Dean snorts and shakes his head against Cas’ shoulder.

“What did I do wrong?” Dean mumbles into Cas’ shirt.

“Nothing, nothing,” Cas offers, bringing his other arm around and pulling Dean closer. “Michael is… an assbutt!” Dean laughs and sniffles at the same time and Cas has to bite back an amused laugh.

“Assbutt?” He asks, lifting his head and wiping a tear away from his cheek.

“Yeah, an assbutt,” Cas repeats. “You know what? Fuck Michael. Fuck him and his self-righteous, traditional-alpha bullshit. Fuck his twinky little boyfriend too!” Dean laughs in spite of himself. He looks at Cas and smiles.

“Fuck Amelia, too,” he says flatly. “Fuck her, fuck her pretending, and fuck her poor-man’s-substitute excuse for an alpha.” Cas smiles. Somehow hearing Dean say that does make him feel better.

“Thanks, Dean,” he mumbles, pulling Dean into another hug. “You going to be ok?” Cas tries to pull away, but Dean clings tighter.

“No, just… not yet,” Dean mumbles. Cas sinks back into the hug until he feels Dean’s hold loosen.

“Better?” He asks as he pulls back.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Thanks, Cas. Really.” He leans forward and pecks a friendly kiss on the corner of Castiel’s mouth, followed by another on the lips.

Cas’ heart twists as Dean pulls away slowly. He stares back at Dean, whose smile has dropped. They are close enough that their noses brush one another lightly. Castiel’s eyes flick down to Dean’s pink lips, and all he can think about is how soft they look. All he’d need to do is move forward an inch or two and he could test how soft they are. Dean is looking back at him, Green eyes shining, and it’s more than any alpha can handle. He closes the distance between them, capturing Dean’s mouth with his own.

Dean responds immediately, lips parting and welcoming for Cas. He whimpers as Cas’ tongue sweeps into his mouth, and Cas can’t control a low growl rumbling from within him in response.

Dean’s hands slide up around Cas’ neck, pulling himself closer until he’s sitting in Cas’s lap. He smooths his palms over Dean’s clothed back and they both scramble to shed Dean of his jacket and outer shirt.

Cas parts from the kiss and presses his nose into the crook of Dean’s neck, inhaling the sweet omega scent so deeply until he’s dizzy. He tenatively licks at the soft skin and is awarded by a soft gasp and Dean pressing his face into Cas’ shoulder.

Dean’s skin feels warm beneath the thin fabric of the t-shirt, and Cas wonders if perhaps he is close to his heat. The thought causes a bolt of arousal to shoot straight to his knot and he groans heavily, rocking up against Dean for friction.

Dean gives a pleased little hum and presses back against Cas. He finds Cas’ mouth once more, kissing him hungrily as his hands travel down the Cas’ sides until they find the hem of his t-shirt. Cas allows Dean to pull the shirt up over his head and watches as Dean studies him closely, pressing his mouth over Cas’ collarbone and up his neck.

Cas moves his hands down Dean’s sides and over his hips. He reaches around and digs his hands into the delicious mounds of Dean’s ass. Dean moans into Cas’ mouth and grinds down. Cas swears he sees stars as he does this and pulls Dean closer.

When Dean pulls back again, Cas has a sudden moment of lucidity.

“Bed.” It’s the only thing he can intelligibly get out. Dean nods and crawls off of Cas’ lap. They don’t run or chase each other to the bedroom; Dean only follows Cas a step behind. Cas isn’t concerned over whether his sheets are clean (they are) or if the floor is a mess (it’s not), all he cares about is the omega who he is completely scent-drunk on.

Dean’s scent is familiar to Cas: Sweet and earthy, like wildflowers, or freshly cut grass. It’s a scent that makes Cas feel comfortable and happy. Dean’s scent now, though, is an entirely different animal: The sweetness is tempered with something spicy like cinnamon and clove, and Cas wants to drink it in like fine wine. Every whiff makes Castiel want and need; he wants to hide the scent away so it can only be his.

Once they enter the bedroom, Castiel shuts the door and looks at Dean. He steps forward, leaning his forehead against Dean’s and inhaling deeply, letting the scent wash over him in a wave.

“Alpha,” Dean murmurs under his breath, and that’s all it takes for Castiel to snap. He kisses Dean hungrily, and his fingers tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. Dean follows his lead, pulling the shirt over his head in one swift motion. Castiel sees the galaxy of freckles lining Dean shoulder and immediately wants to lick them off of Dean. He mouths down Dean’s neck and shoulder, directing him toward the bed. The back of Dean’s knees hit the edge and he drops down to the mattress.

Dean scoots back, frantically trying to undo the button on his jeans as he does. Cas smiles as he crawls up the bed toward him, stilling Dean’s hand with his own. He presses Dean back against his pillow and unhooks the button with one hand. Dean lifts his ass, allowing Cas to pull the jeans down and off of his legs, doing the same with his boxer briefs.

Cas takes a moment to admire a very naked Dean spread out across his bed. As much as he’s aching to fuck Dean into oblivion, there are so many other things he wants first.

They kiss tenderly for a long while, Cas touching and exploring the smooth planes of Dean’s body. He lets his hand wander over Dean’s ass, his fingers grazing his leaking hole for a second and earning a low moan from the omega in return.

Dean cries out Cas’ name as he moves down the bed, capturing Dean’s cock in his mouth and sucking greedily. His fingers venture south, dipping into the tender wetness of Dean’s hole. Dean gasps and pants, and Cas can’t help but grin at the sound of his name being moaned loudly.

He pops off of Dean’s cock and moves lower, his tongue dipping into his hole and causing Dean to gasp, precome dripping from his cock onto his belly. Castiel presses Dean’s thighs apart and toward his chest as he attacks Dean’s hole ravenously. It’s not until he feels Dean  tighten around his tongue and see filmy streams of white dripping onto his stomach that he draws back.

Dean looks loose and fucked-out, eyes half closed as he reclines against the pillows. Cas moves back up the bed once more and kisses Dean sweetly. Dean rallies himself enough to kiss back and assist Cas in removing his own pants against the painful strain of his own erection and growing knot.

“On your back,” Dean mumbles once Cas’ pants and boxers are thrown to the floor. Cas nods and obeys, lying back on his bed. Dean crawls forward, positioning himself over Castiel’s hardened member and sinking down onto him with a low groan.

Cas’ hands fly to Dean’s hip, finding the rhythm as he begins to ride him. Dean’s sleepy hooded eyes never leave Cas’. His hips shift and buck, lifting off and coming down with a moan. Cas throws his head back as Dean rocks himself forward and back. He can feel the swelling of his knot beginning to grow and Dean picks up the pace, repeating a mantra of “Fuck, yes” and “Alpha!”.

With a growls, Cas grasps Dean around the torso, throwing him onto the bed so that their positions are reversed. Dean whimpers as Cas pulls out, but cries out in relief as he comes up from behind and enters him. He thrusts into Dean enthusiastically until his knot catches and he comes with a broken groan into the silence of the apartment.

They catch their breath, spooning together on Cas’ Ikea mattress. Cas whimpers a softly every time his knot pumps inside Dean.

“You alright?” He mumbles, the first clear thing he’s said since they left the living room. Dean hums sleepily, pulling Cas’ arms tight around his middle. Before long, his breath evens out and he is fast asleep, back pressed against Cas. Cas take the cue and curls himself around Dean protectively, eyes heavy as well. He nuzzles the back of Dean’s neck, inhaling that delicious spicy scent deeply before placing a soft kiss into Dean’s hair.

 

*******

 

Cas is roused awake by the sound of muttered cursing and shuffling fabric. He opens his eyes to see Dean out of bed, pulling his jeans on over his bare ass.

“Where are you going?” Cas mumbles, still groggy. Dean jumps at the sound, turning to look at Cas.

“I, uh… I have to get going,” Dean stammers, grabbing his t-shirt off the bedroom floor and pulling it on over his head. “I have work at 8:30.” Cas frowns and sits up, leaning back on his elbows.

“Take the day off,” he says it gently, but the way it comes out almost sounds like an order and he can see Dean physically bristle at the inference.

“It’s really important I be there,” Dean looks away, shaking his head. He looks up at Cas for a moment, conflicted over something, before awkwardly walking toward him and pecking a small kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll call you later, ok?” And with that Dean is gone. Cas hears the echo of the door shutting throughout the apartment. He falls back onto the bed with a groan, cupping his face on his hands.

Well, what the hell did he expect to happen?

He turns his head and sees his phone lying on the nightstand. He picks it up and scrolls through his contacts. He needs to talk  to someone.

***

Dean hurries down the block, too distracted to be embarrassed by his walk of shame. People all around him give him dirty looks as he nearly runs into them, one guy growling at him to “watch the fuck where you’re going, omega!” Dean isn’t paying attention; his mind is somewhere else.

He fucked up. He knows he fucked up. Last night was amazing, but definitely one of the stupidest things he’s ever done. He had never meant to fall in bed with Castiel. It really wasn’t something he’d ever thought about. They were friends, best friends, really.

And now he’d fucked it up.

What’s even worse was how he acted. The whimpering, the pleading, it was embarrassing. He acted like… like a stereotypical, needy omega. He called Cas “Alpha”, for God’s sake! He’d never even called Michael “Alpha” unless he was joking. Dean feels his face heat up at the memory of Cas growling happily in response to the word. He shakes the thought away and picks up his pace.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. Maybe he should call Cas and say… what? I’m sorry? That was a mistake? Ready for round two? Dean flips through his contacts and dials the only person he thinks will understand at this moment.

 

*******

 

“Oh, fuck yes!” Sam groans. He throws his head back and clenches his fingers in the bedsheets. Gabe stares up at him, eyes shining as he takes Sam’s impressive cock all the way down to the base. “Oh, fuck, Gabe you are so good at that!” Gabe hums happily around Sam’s swollen shaft when his cellphone trills. Sam growls in frustration as Gabe pulls off of him.

“I’m going to kill him, I swear,” Sam sighs. He rolls out of bed, snorting as Gabe reaches out to slap at his bare ass. Sam picks the ringing phone up off the table.

“Hey Dean,” he says.

“Sam?” Dean answers, his voice raw even through the phone. There is a long moment of silence.

“Yes, Dean, what is it?” Sam spits curtly. He has no time for his brother, especially when he’s interrupting epic blow-jobs.

“I fucked up,” Dean says flatly. Sam grimaces, glancing over to the bed where Gabe is talking to someone on his own phone.

“What’s going on?” Sam says hesitantly. Now, he’s beginning to worry maybe Dean’s in the hospital or jail.

“I slept with Cas,” Dean says. Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles.

 

*******

 

As Sam walks away, Gabriel hears his own phone buzzing on the bedside table. He picks it up to see Castiel’s name lit up across the screen.

“Hey Cassie,” he says brightly, leaning back against the headboard. “What’s shakin’?”

“Dean and I had sex.” Leave it to Castiel to cut to the chase. Gabriel sits up quickly.

“You did what?!” He gasps.

“We had sex.”

“When?” Gabe asks swinging his legs over the bed.

“Last night,” Cas offers, “in my bed.” Gabriel rubs at his eyes. Well this was a long time coming.

 

*******

 

“You had Sex?” Sam asks, awkwardly trying to pull on a pair of pajama pants while keeping his phone trapped between his massive shoulder and chin.

“Yes, Sam, I said that!” Dean grouses.

“Why do you sound so upset?” Sam asks. “This is a good thing, right? Was it bad or something?” Dean snarls into the phone.

“No, no, it wasn’t bad, it’s just… Sam, I fucked my best friend, and…” Dean trails off and Sam already knows what Dean is going to say.

“Oh, Dean, please don’t tell me you left before he woke up?” Sam lets his back fall against the wall, scrubbing his hand down his face. He walks out of the bedroom into the open floorplan living room, noticing Gabe is already out there preparing the coffee pot.

“No, no, no!” Dean insists. “He woke up as I was getting dressed.” Sam sighs heavily.

“Jesus! Why Dean!” He groans.

 

*******

 

“Jesus! Why Dean!” Sam’s growl echos throughout the room.

“Is someone there?” Cas asks on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no… just the TV.” Gabe lies. He catches Sam’s eye, mouthing an exaggerated _“What The Fuck?”_ , to which he receives an equally-exaggerated _“I Know!”_ in response. “So what happened after that?”

“It was awkward,” Cas mumbles into the phone. Gabe has no doubt that he’s still in bed right now. “He said he had an early work thing.”

 

*******

  
“You said you had work?!” Sam repeats in disbelief, flopping down onto the couch. “God, Dean, you’re hitting every scumbag benchmark, aren’t you?”

“I do have work,” Dean snaps back.

“Did you not want to stay?” Sam asks. “I mean, he’s your best friend-”

‘Exactly, Sam!” Dean exclaims. “We’re friends and it was… just too much. It was too tender and… sweet.”

“On your part or his?” Sam asks. There’s no answer on the other end of the line.

 

*******

 

“So what are you going to do?” Gabe says as he settles onto the opposite end of the couch, pillowing his feet in Sam’s lap.

“I don’t know,” Cas says.

“You can come over here. We can talk more,” he says. Sam starts frantically shaking his head and mouthing no, “ah, actually-”

“I’m not really feeling to well, Gabe,” Cas supplies, cutting him off. “I think I’m just going to spend the day in bed.” Gabe sighs in relief.

“Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea,” he says. “You feel better, ok Cas? We’ll grab coffee sometime this week.”

“Alright Gabe,” Cas agrees. “Have a good day.”

 

*******

 

“So what’s your plan now, Dean?” Sam asks sarcastically. “Going to do the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ thing again.”

“I’m not leaving anyone, Sam. We’re friends,” Dean insists, “and right now I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Do you want to come over to talk?” Sam asks just before he hears Gabe ask the same thing of Castiel.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Sammy,” Dean laughs. “You can save your mushy, touchy-feely crap.”

“Whatever,” Sam sighs. “If you need to talk, call me, ok.”

“Yeah, sure, bitch,” Dean says playfully.

“Jerk,” Sam answers. They both bid their goodbyes and hang-up.

Sam looks at Gabe in shock.

“They finally did it,” he says.

“I know!” Gabe says with a grin. “I think you owe me $20.” Sam laughs heartily.

“No, you owe me $20,” Sam corrects. “You said after the holidays.”

“No, I said after our mating,” Gabriel corrects. “You said before.”

“You liar!” Sam shouts playfully, taking hold of one of Gabriel’s feet and running his fingers along the bottom of it. Gabriel erupts in a fit of giggles and tries to kick 200 lbs of moose off of him to no avail.

“No fair!” Gabe yells. “You’re bigger than me!” He tries to wind his legs around Sam and flip them over, but Sam is too quick, holding down Gabe’s hips with his legs.

“Yeah, I am,” Sam says coyly, crawling up the couch over Gabe’s body. He pins him down easily, holding his wrists at his side and kissing him tenderly. Gabe moans into Sam’s mouth and wiggles his hands out of his grip. He wraps his arms around Sam’s neck and presses his forehead against the other man’s.

“Promise me I’ll never have to go through that bullshit again,” he mutters. Sam smiles tenderly and leans down to kiss him once more.

“Never again,” Sam murmurs.

 


	10. How Not to Make a Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think things can't get worse... they get much, much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end. 
> 
> Just a quick note that next week there will be two chapters updated at once (or if you want to get technical about it, a chapter and an epilogue).

Castiel doesn’t hear from Dean for three days until he receives a text simply reading “ _Coffee_?” Castiel frowns when he reads it. He knows what Dean’s going to say. He wants to meet in a public place, which clearly means he’s hoping he can stave off some sort of fight or scene. He’s asking for coffee rather than a meal, which means he wants to make it quick.

A growl rises from within Castiel and he can smell his own scent curdling the air in anger. If Dean had wanted to cut things off so abruptly, he didn’t have to put Cas on ice for days. He could’ve told him the next morning. It occurs to Castiel that maybe Dean had tried to, but Cas woke up before he could sneak out.

Cas drops down onto his couch and runs his hands through his hair. Some part of him wants to ignore the text, make Dean stew, but he knows it’s not right. He grabs up his phone and taps a quick response. They agree on a location and set a time for later in the afternoon.

If Cas is honest with himself, he can admit he’s hurt. Their night together was… it was amazing. They were so connected and Castiel had never had an orgasm like that, nor had he ever fallen asleep still locked inside his partner. Not to mention Dean’s scent, the spicy sweet scent of home, which Castiel still caught traces of in his bed sheets and pillows, sending a spike of arousal southward.

If Dean didn’t feel that though, that was his loss. Castiel will give Dean exactly what he wants: A clean break.

 

*******

 

Dean sits nervously at the table, anxiously tearing the cardboard sleeve of his cup into nothing. He checks his phone for the tenth time, making sure he didn’t get the time wrong.

He tells himself there’s no reason to be nervous, but he doesn’t sound too convincing in his head.

He admits he had a minor freakout right after it happened and trying to escape Cas’ apartment probably sent a bad message, but he’s had a few days to think about it now and feels much more at ease with the whole situation. Being with Cas had been amazing, that couldn’t be denied. The sex was some of the best Dean had ever experienced, but it was more than that. Falling asleep next to Cas, his earth-and-ozone scent blanketing Dean, was the closest Dean has come to feeling honestly good since… well, since well before his breakup with Michael.

Their friendship (relationship, whatever it is) is already so close, pushing it further doesn’t feel like such a hardship.

The hard part for Dean is holding back. Part of him, a very large part, wants to cling to Cas and bear his neck, begging for his mark. Yet he knows Cas still might be in a fragile place and not ready to jump headfirst into a relationship, much less take another mate. Hell, Dean knows he is the first person Cas has slept with in over a year.

So they’ll take it slow, casual. Hence the coffee shop rather than dinner. He’ll bring up his feeling and intentions slowly and gauge Cas’ reaction.

Dean has a plan. He’s still nervous though.  

The door to the shop opens and Dean looks up to see Cas step through it, the breeze from outside carrying a light whiff of his scent into the room. Dean catches his eye and nods, trying to tamp down his nerves. Cas crosses the room. He’s dressed casually in khakis and a plain oxford shirt with no jacket. He walks past the counter, approaching Dean’s table and taking a seat.

“Hello Dean,” he says seriously. Dean is caught off guard by the thrill he feels at having Cas say his name. He wraps his fingers around his coffee cup to keep from fidgeting.

“Hey Cas,” he says.

 

*******

 

From the moment he steps in the shop, Cas can scent Dean’s anxiety. Even if he couldn’t smell the other man, his body language says it all: overly formal, overly polite, tense, antsy. Everything about Dean says he doesn’t want to be here. Cas takes a seat across from him.

“Hello Dean,” he says stiffly, hoping he’s able to mask his irritation.

“Hey Cas,” Dean responds. He gives a tight smile, “do you want to grab your coffee?” Cas shakes his head.

“I’m good, actually,” he says. He doesn’t want any distractions. Just get this over with, let Dean have his clean break, and get out of here as fast as possible. Dean nods absently. He chews at the inside of his lip, like he’s trying to summon the nerve to speak.

“Look, Cas-”

“It was a mistake, Dean,” Cas cuts him off, trying to keep his voice light and easy. “We were both in bad places and that should have never have happened.” Dean lifts his head, expression blank and eyes wide.

“Oh,” he says quietly, “Ok.”

 

*******

 

Dean had a lot of expectations about how this conversation could go, but this direction was never one he imagined.

“Oh. Ok.” His mouth is dry. He feels like the world has just been tipped on his side. He thought the way things had felt that night was mutual; had Dean completely misread the situation? He looks at Cas, whose expression is sympathetic but stearn.

Cas doesn’t want him.

Rejection sears through Dean’s veins and he feels like a stiff breeze could cause him to shatter. He feels used and stupid, like some stereotypical slut omega who gets knot-whipped after one good fuck. Dean takes a deep breath and steels his nerves.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, trying to sound flippant. “A mistake.”

 

*******

 

For a moment, Castiel almost thought he saw a flicker of pain across Dean’s expression, but as quick as it arrived, it was gone with a casual shrug.

“A mistake,” Dean mutters, smirking slightly. Something about Dean’s attitude causes Castiel’s hackles to rise. “I’m not saying it was bad, it was.. it was great. But it should never have happened.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Cas replies stiffly, unable to meet Dean’s eyes.

“I mean, us hooking up was kind of a dumb idea to begin with. Usually after sex, you’re supposed to tell the other person all of your stories and we already know all of ours, right?” There it was: the brush off. Castiel stomps down a growl threatening to surface, covering it with a cough.

“Yup, dumb idea,” he stammers. Castiel can’t take much more of this and makes a display of checking his watch, “I… uh, I’ve got to get going. I have a working-dinner tonight.” He rises from the table and Dean’s gaze follows him.

“Sure, sure,” he says. “I’ll text you later, ok?” Cas nods absently, mumbling a goodbye as he makes his way to the door. He needs to get out of this place before he starts tearing the fixtures from the walls in an alpha rage. Castiel quickly exits the shop and trudges down the street toward the ‘L’ station, growls rumbling from within him as he tries to lick at his wounded pride.

No… no, that wasn’t it. Amelia had wounded his pride. She had made him look like a jackass and a cuckold, but he had never hurt this way anytime during their breakup. Whatever Dean was doing was far worse and hurt far more than he could’ve ever imagined.

 

*******

 

Cas leaves the coffee shop with barely a glance or two words said to Dean. It really _had_ meant nothing to him, Dean thinks glumly. All this time, Dean thought Castiel was fragile and careful, when in fact he was cold and callous.

Dean lets his head fall into his hands. He knows his scent is overwhelming with sorrow and pain but he doesn’t care. He didn't think he could hurt this bad. Even when he found out about Michael’s pup and new mate, he was more angry about being lied to than being rejected.

He rubs at his eyes, trying to press back the tears that keep threatening to spill. An older beta woman approaches him, stinking of concern and empathy, and asks if he needs any help or someone to call his alpha. Dean wants to scream _“Does it fucking look like I have an alpha?!”_ but he knows the mark on his neck probably gives her the wrong idea. He shakes his head and stands from the table, leaving his still-full coffee behind. He heads out the shop and, for a second, he catches Cas’ scent on the breeze, a high-pitched whine coming from him without warning. He clenches his fist and breathes deeply, walking around the building toward the Impala.

 

*******

 

It gets awkward. Neither Cas or Dean realized what a presence they were in each other’s lives until they weren’t. Dean makes an effort not to be stand-offish or cold toward Cas, texting him occasionally with something funny he’d heard or a picture of some cute bee-related knick-knack or shirt. However, after countless texts with little or no response, he gives up on even doing that.

Cas tries to focus on ignoring the problem. He knows if he spends any amount of time with Dean, he’s going to end up scenting or nuzzling the man in public, embarrassing him more than Castiel clearly already has. Cas is working on the “out of sight, out of mind” philosophy. Maybe if he purges himself of Dean, gets his head on straight, they can perhaps start again. One day, they’ll look back on this whole fucked-up, painful situation and just _laugh_ , although Cas doubts that will be anytime soon.

It doesn’t help matters that they are practically family. Both of them work hard to be civil about the matter when it comes to Sam and Gabe, carefully trying not to make their friends pick sides. Gabe was actually the one who pointed out “how are we supposed to choose when the hos are also our bros?” When Sam presses Dean for details of what had happened, he only shrugs and mumbles something about “stupid mistakes.”

They don’t end up seeing each other for almost two months, at what Gabe dubs “The Time Castiel and Dean ruined Labor Day.”

 

*******

 

Dean pulls the Impala up outside Sam & Gabe’s apartment. Aaron looks up through the passenger side window and whistles low.

“This is swanky,” he murmurs. “This is really your brother’s place?” he asks, glancing at Dean. Dean nods as he switches off the engine.

“Yup,” he replies. “Him and his mate’s.” Aaron gives an impressed nod.

“They must be loaded,” he says. Dean raises an eyebrow slightly. He likes Aaron alright, but sometimes the guy has no filter and will just blurt out things that could be interpreted at inappropriate. For a second, Dean wonders if this is how he came off to Cas when they first met and cringes at the thought.

Aaron wasn’t wrong though. Sam was flourishing at the State Attorney’s office and Gabe had just opened a third Bakery location up north. They were living the dream alright.

Dean and Aaron make their way up the steps to the front door, Aaron casually grasping Dean’s hand as he does. Dean smiles; he and Aaron haven’t been seeing each long, but so far what they had was nice… comfortable. Dean brings his hand up to meet his lips as he presses the buzzer with his other hand.

There is an echo of footfalls behind the door. It flies open to reveal Sam, casually dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, holding a beer.

“Hey Guys! C’mon in,” Sam greets. “Aaron, nice to see you again. We’re all hanging out on the patio.” They follow Sam down the hall.

“This is a really nice apartment,” Aaron pipes up.

“Condo, actually,” Sam replies. “We signed the deed on it a couple weeks ago,” Dean smiles and nods. And now Sam is a homeowner as well. _Fucking perfect_.

“Feel free to grab a beer,” Sam offers as they enter the kitchen. “Everyone’s outside.” Gabriel is taking a tray of some sort of frou-frou pastry appetizer out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stove top. Aaron holds up a 6-pack of beer.

“Where can I put this?” He asks. Sam points out a cooler just outside the patio door. Aaron pecks Dean lightly on the cheek and goes to put the beer on ice. He catches a glimpse of Sam watching him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So who else is here?” Dean asks, leaning against the kitchen counter while he watches Sam and Gabe prepare the rest of the food.

“Let’s see,” Gabe mumbles. “Charlie and Dorothy are here. We’ve got a couple of Sam’s co-workers, a few people from the bakery… uh, Cas.” Gabriel hesitates at the last word, gauging Dean’s reaction. Dean carefully schools his features. “The woman he brought…”

“Cas brought a date?” Dean asks, surprised.

“Yeah, some woman he works with,” Gabe mumbles, plating the miniature pastries. “What’s her name? Mel?”

“Meg,” Sam supplies. Dean looks at his brother, brows drawn tight.

“Wait… ‘Alpha’ Meg?” He asks incredulously. “Cas is dating an alpha?!” Something deep inside Dean twists painfully, and Dean refuses to admit that it may be jealousy. Sam shrugs as he hands Dean a cheese tray and directs him out toward the patio.

“I don’t know if they’re dating, but she came with him,” Sam says dismissively. “So how are things with Aaron?” Sam’s attempt to change the subject is anything but subtle.

“Good. Really good,” Dean says, nodding to himself. “We’re… uh… going apple-picking next weekend.” Sam stops right before they open the door and glares at Dean in complete disbelief.

“Apple picking?” he asks. “Are you serious?” Dean pushes through the door with a sigh.

“Yeah, apple picking,” he replies. “What about it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Sam says, shaking his head, holding back an amused smirk. “It’s just that, uh…” he chuckles to himself, “who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“C’mon, Sam,” Dean shrugs. “It’s going to be… fun.”

“You sound about as convinced as I do,” Sam snorts. Dean looks up at him, quirking his mouth sardonically.

“We’ve all done certain things to get laid,” Dean points out, voice quiet. “Remember that time you waxed your ass in college?” Sam stares out into the distance wistfully.

“Ruby _was_ a wild one,” he concedes. Dean nods and sets the cheese plate on the long buffet table. The air smells rich with charcoal and meat, and Dean can feel his mouth already beginning to water. Beneath it, he just barely scents the familiar smell of Cas. He glances around to see him talking with a small dark-haired woman whom Dean doesn’t recognize (who must be the infamous Meg) and a burly, bearded man who works at Gabriel’s second Bakery location (Billy?... No, Benny. That’s it!).

Dean finds Aaron chatting with Dorothy and Charlie. He approaches him from behind him and wraps an arm around him, joining the conversation.

 

*******

 

Cas smells him before he sees him.

Even with the thick aroma of barbecue filling the air of the outdoor patio, Dean’s scent cuts through all of it. Cas tenses as soon as it hits his nose, flinching enough for Meg to notice.

“Whoa, you ok there, Clarence?” she asks, placing a hand on his arm. He nods and takes a sip of his drink. He watches Dean walk out of the back door with Sam and set a platter down on the table before crossing the patio and wrapping his arm around the shoulder of a smaller man. Cas can’t control the bristle under his skin at the sight.

“So that’s the one, huh?” Meg says, following Cas’ gaze. “Gotta hand it too you, Clarence, you do have taste.”

“It’s not like that,” he insists quietly. Meg shrugs and continues to flirt with the large burly alpha from Gabe’s bakery. Castiel walks away, heading inside to get another drink. Gabe is artfully arranging crous d’etat on a tray when he walks in.

“What’s going on, Cas?” He asks without looking up.

“Nothing,” Cas mutters. “I think Meg is planning on devouring your assistant manager.”

“Benny? Really?” Gabe says, looking up in surprise. “Huh. Well, that’s good, I guess. Guy needs to get his knot off. He’s been mourning his mate for four years.”

“Yeah, but not Meg,” Cas replies. “She’ll eat him alive.” Gabe chuckles softly.

“I’d be more scared for Meg’s sake than Benny’s, to be honest,” he counters.

“So, um… Who’s that guy with Dean?” Cas asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Gabe looks at him, clearly not buying it.

“His name’s Aaron,” Gabe says. “He’s nice, you should talk to him.” Cas nods, looking through the large panel windows out to the patio.

“How, uh… How did he and Dean meet?” He asks.

“Farmer’s Market,” Gabe says absently, pushing the condiment tray into Cas’ arms.

“Dean went to a farmer’s market?” Cas asks, completely confused.

“I don’t know,” Gabe leads him out the door and onto the patio, shaking his head dismissively at the question. “Alright, everyone! Food’s ready!” His voice carries over the noise of the conversations and people start to grab plates and load them up.

Maybe Castiel will need to talk with this Aaron guy himself.

 

*******

 

The remainder of the afternoon is fine. Dean and Castiel manage to remain civil with each other, mostly by not interacting at all. The only communication they have is at one point after the dinner plates had been cleared, Dean throws his head back in a laugh and accidentally catches Castiel’s gaze. He gives a tense nod and a small smile, which is politely returned.

Dean takes a bit of comfort in the fact that, even though she came with Castiel, Meg is not his date. At least, that’s what Dean hopes by the way she has been blatantly throwing herself at Benny for the last two hours. It gets so bad that most of the guests have to move off the patio and into the house so they don’t choke on the scent of alpha pheromones.

Dean is joking with Charlie when he looks up, searching for Aaron amongst the crowd. His smile falters as he notices Aaron with his back to Dean, talking with a stone-faced Castiel.

 _Oh, this can’t be good_ , Dean thinks.

 

*******

  
Later on, Cas will admit that he may have had a bit more alcohol than he should’ve. He spots Dean’s date coming out of the bathroom and something in him tells him to find out what is so special about this guy that Dean chose him.

“Hey there,” Cas says, offering his hand. “You’re Aaron, right? Dean’s friend.” Castiel slyly scents the air, noticing that the guy is a beta. He finds himself taking a modicum of comfort in that fact.

“Yeah, man,” Aaron says, carefully setting his drink and dessert plate down to shake Cas’ hand. “Uh… I don’t think I’ve met you.”

“Castiel,” he says with a nod. “I’m a friend of…” he hesitates on for a moment, not sure if he is able to say ‘friend of Dean’s’, “I’m a friend of Gabe’s.” Aaron’s eyes light up.

“Oh my God! Cas, yeah,” he gushes. “I know who you are!” Castiel frowns.

“Really?” He asks, suddenly concerned about exactly what Dean has said.

“Yeah, yeah, Dean talks about you all the time,” Aaron replies. “I’m actually surprised we haven’t met before.” Castiel gives him an unsteady smile.

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” Cas mumbles, trying to change the subject. “So, uh, how did you and Dean meet?”

“He actually came by my stall,” Aaron says. “I work at the farmers market on Division and he stopped by and starts asking me all these questions about the apples-”

“Wait? Dean went to a farmers market?” Castiel glares at Aaron in disbelief, “Dean Winchester?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, shrugging as if it’s obvious.

“Was Sam dragging him there or something?” Cas raises an eyebrow. Aaron shakes his head simply.

“No, no, he was there on his own,” he replies. “Actually, I think he brought Sam and Gabe with him the next time. Anyway, we started talking and-”

“He just… _went_ to a farmers market?” Castiel asks doubtfully. In all the time he’s known Dean, as many complaints he’s heard about their trips to Whole Food, Castiel can’t even picture Dean shopping for produce in an open-air market.

“Uh, yeah, we go every week,” Aaron responds slowly, “except for next weekend; we’re going apple-picking. You’re welcome to join us if you like.” He smiles proudly at Castiel, whose polite facade has faded into a rueful glare.

“Apple-picking?” Castiel snorts. “Clearly, you two clearly haven’t slept together yet.” He mumbles the last statement under his breath as he takes a sip of his drink. He can smell irritation curling off himself and doesn’t care to try and control it.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Aaron asks, brow furrowed. Castiel shakes his head.

“Nothing, nevermind,” he mumbles dismissively. “I think I hear Gabe calling me. It was nice to meet you, Aaron.” Castiel pats him on the shoulder and walks off just as Dean approaches him from the other side.

 

*******

 

“What’s going on?” Dean says quickly as they both watch Castiel walk across the room to talk to Meg and Benny, who have finally decided to come inside.

“Nothing, nothing,” Aaron mutters, distracted. “I met your friend Cas.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Dean huffs. From the lingering scent of Cas’ irritation in the air, it appears it wasn’t pleasant.

“He’s a… pretty weird dude,” Aaron says, picking his dessert plate back up. “Especially for an Alpha. Does he not like apples or something?” Dean frowns in confusion.

“I… I don’t know,” he answers, “why?” Aaron shrugs and takes a bite of his dessert.

“I mentioned apple-picking, and he got all pissed off,” he replies. “It was weird.” Dean shrugs as Aaron happily offers up a fork-full of pecan pie for Dean to try.

Across the room, Castiel feels his hackles rise as he watches them.

 

*******

 

Dean is refilling his drink when he smells Castiel approach.

“Hello Dean,” he says stiffly. “What’s, uh, going on?” Dean shakes his head, not looking up from what he’s doing.

“Not much, Cas.” Dean says offhandedly, glancing at the other man out of his peripheral vision. “What about you?” Cas shakes his head.

“Not a lot,” he clears his throat. “So, Aaron, huh?” Dean looks at him, not quite following. Cas’ scent is tainted by alcohol, but even if Dean couldn’t smell him, his drooping eyes give him away.

“Yeah,” he says curtly. Cas laughs and shakes his head.

“Are you _really_ going… apple picking?” Cas asks. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Dean answers slowly. “Why is it so hard to believe I want to go apple picking?”

“No, no, I believe you.  Aaron… Aaron seems like a great guy,” Cas offers. “I bet the sex will be worth it.” He gives Dean a sarcastic thumbs up. Dean narrows his eyes at Cas, nostrils flaring.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how my sex life has anything to do with you,” Dean says coolly. Cas’ expression falls and he glares at Dean. A wave of alpha irritation rolls off of him, strong enough that a few guests in the living room take notice.

“Seriously?” Cas hisses, “Dean-”

“Can we talk about this outside?” Dean cuts his off calmly. Cas nods and they push through the patio door into the night. Dean stares into the horizon, attempting to focus his anger and his words.

“Dean, we need to talk about this,” Cas starts.

“Damn straight we do!” Dean snaps, turning on his heel to face Cas. “To be clear, I do not put up with this machismo alpha bullshit! I don’t care if we slept together!”

“As your friend-”

“My friend?” Dean huffs. “You mean the guy who I haven’t spoken to in six weeks and hasn’t said one word to me the whole time I’ve been here? _That_ friend? Really, Cas I thought you were above this high school bullshit!”

“Would you stop!” Cas shouts. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“What?!”

“Aaron? Really?” Cas Accuses. “When have you ever been to a farmers market in your life?!”

“Why is this bothering you so bad?” Dean yells, throwing his arms out wide.

“You shouldn’t be doing this!” Cas snaps, stepping up into Dean’s face. “Sleeping with people... you have nothing in common with.”

“Who says I have nothing in common with him?”

“Have you talked to the guy? Clearly you don’t.” Dean sighs and scrubs a hand over his face.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Cas, but you have no claim to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing.” Cas takes a step back in surprise.

“Of course I don’t,” he says quietly, quickly recovering. “You know what? Do whatever you want, ok? That’s your M.O., right? Get your rocks off and that’s all that matters!” Something inside of Dean twinges painfully at the cruel remark.

“Oh please, don’t act like you didn’t get what you wanted from me as well,” Dean hisses. “Or was I imagining your knot locked inside of me.” Cas glares at Dean, a low growl rumbling from within him.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” Cas’ calm tone is undermined by the sour scent of anger. “It was not my intention to sleep with you-”

“But you did!” Dean interupts.

“What was I supposed to do? You kissed me!” Cas shouts. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see party guests beginning to glance toward them through the large pane glass windows. “You wouldn’t let go of me! And you kept looking up at me with these big weepy eyes. ‘Don’t leave me, Cas, just a little longer’.…”

“You pitied me?” Dean gapes in utter disbelief.

“No it wasn’t like-”

“Fuck you!” Dean screams. His hand hits Cas’ face with an echoing ‘slap’ and his head flies to the right. A crowd is gathered at the window, watching them, and Dean sees red. He stomps across the concrete, throwing open the door and grabbing Aaron by the sleeve as he passes him.

Aaron tries to give an aborted wave goodbye as Dean wordlessly stalks through the front door and into the hallway.

 

*******

 

Castiel is motionless; his face still stinging from where Dean slapped him. Party guests pour onto the patio, their voices a murmured din. He feels a hand on his arms and when he looks up he sees Meg staring at him with a mixture of concern and confusion.

“You ok, Cas?” She asks. He swallows hard, quickly shaking his head.

“I’ve got to go,” he mutters, pushing past the group bottle-necked at the door. He can hear Gabe and Sam’s voices calling after him, but he doesn’t turn around. He rushes out of the condo and down the stairs, two at a time. His head is swimming and he knows by the way passers-by sidestep him, his scent is disarming.

He avoids the ‘L’, choosing instead to walk the 20 blocks back to his own apartment to clear his head. It’s no use; as soon as he makes it through the door, he realizes his thoughts are just as muddled as they were before.

He rubs at his neck and hurries to his bathroom. He throws open the medicine cabinet, finding a prescription bottle of expired bond blockers. He shakes two out onto his palm, popping them into his mouth and then dipping his head under the running tap to wash them down.

Cas lifts his head and stares at his reflection.

“Great fucking job,” he mutters to himself.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... I'm sorry. Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


	11. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we end where we began

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the finale of our story! I cannot tell you how excited I've been for this moment. Please note that there are two updates today (this chapter and the epilogue following)
> 
> Chapter title comes from [the song of the same name by Ella Fitzgerald](http://youtu.be/UFdfzNMV52Q)

_1 New Message from: Dean - I’m sorry. My behavior was unacceptable._

_1 New Message from: Dean - I am so sorry. Call me please. We need to talk._

_1 New Message from: Dean - Sam said he saw you a couple days ago. Please Cas, Talk to me._

_“Hey Cas, It’s Dean. I’m just calling to see how things are going. I, uh… look man, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I was out of line and… Just please call me. I’d really like to talk. Alright, Cas, have a good day. Bye.”_

_“Hey, it’s Dean. Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving. Sam and Gabe said you went back to Pontiac for the holiday but … uh, look, I really miss you, ok? I, uh, I wish you would talk to me. I still want to apologize. Please call me. Happy Thanksgiving. Bye.”_

_“Hi Cas, It’s Dean. I’m trying to get some of my Christmas shopping done… um, Gabe didn’t know what you wanted for Christmas and I figured this would be as good an opportunity as ever to call, do the traditional holiday groveling for forgiveness and get your Christmas list… Look, I know you’re not speaking to me right now but… Look, Cas, I’m still your friend, alright? I’m so sorry about what I said… and did. Just, please call me, ok? Bye.”_

Cas sighs and deletes the last message. Since the blow-out at the end of the summer, Dean has either called or texted weekly and Cas has yet to respond. It’s not that he doesn’t want to forgive Dean (Hell, he knows he can take responsibility for a large part of the fight), but he’s not sure if their friendship can be salvaged. He feels like there will always be this thing hanging over them: Cas’ confused feelings toward Dean, hovering somewhere between romantic affection and friendship, and Dean’s pity of Cas and his attachment. Cas feels like an idiot, letting himself get hooked by the first person he slept with after his divorce. He tried to convince himself at first that the ache he felt for Dean was temporary and would wear off, but six months later it still shows no sign of waning.

Cas shakes his head goes to grab his thick down coat off the hook by the door. He’s meeting Gabriel for coffee and will no doubt receive an unasked-for Dean update in the process.

Cas feels the worst for Sam and Gabe, who have become miserable bystanders to all of this. Every time he sees them, they will look at Castiel sadly, mentioning Dean in passing. It took a few weeks, but Cas doesn’t even flinch at the mention of his name any more.

As he picks up his phone to put it in his pocket, it abruptly comes to life with the intro to “Thunderstruck.” Castiel’s stomach drops and he swallows hard, staring at Dean’s name on the screen. He musters as much resolve as he can and swipes the phone to answer.

“Hello,” he says.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice is rough and familiar.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, dropping down onto a nearby stool next to the breakfast bar.

“Wow, finally got a hold of you,” Dean laughs gently. “Long time no see.” Castiel closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“What do you want, Dean?” He asks flatly.

“I, um.. I’m just calling to see how you are doing,” Dean stammers. “I haven’t talked to you in for-”

“Dean,” Cas groans, rubbing at his temples.

“Look, I’ve called about a dozen times-”

“Yes, I know,” Cas answers.

“-And I want to apologize,” Dean continues. “I… I was a jackass… _am_ a jackass and I… I just need to say sorry.”  Castiel doesn’t answer for a moment, just shakes his head simply.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Goodbye Dean,” he goes to hang up the phone.

“Wait! Wait! Cas! Don’t hang up! Don’t hang up!” Dean yells through the earpiece. Castiel holds the phone back up to his ear.

“What is it, Dean?” He asks with exasperation.

“I, um… I was wondering what your plans are for New Year’s Eve?” Dean asks after a moment’s hesitation. Cas bites at his lip; he’d been expecting this.

“Don’t do this,” he mutters.

“Look, I pinky-swore last year that we’d do something cool and I _know_ you don’t want to go to Sam and Gabe’s party.” Dean wasn’t wrong on that aspect; Castiel had been dreading the event for weeks and he knew that Gabriel’s coffee invite was mostly a chance to convince him to go.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cas says, “but… Dean, consider yourself free of your obligation. We don’t need to do this.”

“But I want to,” Cas can hear Dean trying to mask the whine in his voice, “Cas-”

“It’s alright,” he says, flopping onto the couch. “You don’t need to apologize again. I am just as much at fault as you are. We screwed up, and we have to live with that mistake.” Castiel swears he hears a small whimper on the other and but shakes his head, sure that he’s imagining things.

“What are you saying, Cas?” Dean asks hesitantly.

“You were right, ok?” Cas lets his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Alphas and omegas can’t be friends. Sex ruins everything. You’re right.” His words come out thick and final. There is silence on the other line, but he can still hear Dean breathing heavily.

“You think it ruined everything?” Dean asks softly. Cas thinks about it for a second.

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, and he means it. He was so happy to have Dean as a friend: someone he could call randomly, someone who would call him on his bullshit and push him out of his comfort zone. Now, he can’t be in the same room with Dean without his biological instinct rearing it’s ugly head.

“I was wrong,” Dean states flatly. “I said that when I was fucking 21! How can you think-?!”

“Because it’s true Dean!” Cas hisses. “We can’t fight a biological imperative!” There is a long pause and Castiel takes a deep breath.

“Ok, Cas,” Dean says glumly. “If that’s how you feel, I guess I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas says and hangs up the phone before Dean even has a chance to respond. He rises from the couch, dropping his phone into his jacket pocket as he crosses the apartment and quickly exits, slamming the door behind him.

 

*******

 

Gabe watches Castiel carefully as he sips his drink.

“You ok there, Chief?” Gabe asks. Castiel just looks up at Gabe, face emotionless.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Why do you ask?” Gabe frowns absently and shakes his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbles. “It’s just in the seven years I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink your coffee black.” Castiel glances down at his cup. Sure enough, unaltered coffee stares back up at him. He must’ve been too distracted by his earlier conversation with Dean to remember to add anything to it.

“I’m fine, Gabe,” Cas says, lying through his teeth. Gabe just stares at him doubtfully, taking a huge swig of his own whipped cream-adorned concoction. “So how is planning for the party going?” It’s a topic he wanted to avoid, but it does distract away from his other issues. Gabe tips his head from side to side as he thinks.

“Going well, I suppose,” he says. “Sam is handling the majority of the party aspects. I’m taking care of the food.” Gabe gives him a serious look. “You _are_ coming, right?”

“Gabe, you know how I hate parties,” Castiel groans. “Especially New Year’s Eve parties.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gabe says, waving his hand in the air. “But you should come. What else are you going to do? Lie around your apartment and watch the ball drop in the wrong timezone?” Castiel rolls his eyes; why does Gabe have to make it sound so pathetic.

“You know he’s not coming, right?” Gabe asks quietly, stirring a huge puff of whipped cream into his latte. Cas looks at him seriously.

“Who? Dean?” He doesn’t have to ask; he already knows who Gabe is talking about.

“Yeah, Sam talked to him yesterday,” Gabe answers. “Says he can’t come because of some work thing. It’s bullshit, but…” he trails off. Cas knows what he is going to say.

“You think it’s because of me,” he states. Gabe exhales through his nose harshly and glares at Cas.

“Of course it’s because of you, you nitwit,” he hisses. “Castiel, me and Sam have been exceedingly patient with you two while you deal with your man-pain, but I am at my limit!” Castiel sits up straight, surprised by Gabriel’s sudden outburst.

“You and Dean had a falling out, I get it,” Gabe sighs heavily, “but you two need to start behaving like adults.”

“It’s not that simple,” Castiel says.

“Well, make it that simple,” Gabe argues. “You guys slept together. Big deal. Do you know how fucked I’d be if I cut every person I’d ever banged out of my life?” Castiel can’t control a soft snort of laughter at that; Gabriel would probably only have Cas, if that were the case.

“But you need to understand something,” he continues. “Me and Sam? We’re a forever kind of thing. Which makes you and Dean essentially family, and that means there’s going to be a lot more holidays and parties and get-togethers and I am not going to have every party I throw end with a yelling match and a slap fight!” He punctuates his sentence by slamming his hands against the table, sending several heads turning in their direction. Castiel looks away embarrassed.

“I don’t mean to be harsh,” Gabe says quietly, “but I am your friend, and I hate seeing you like this. Just do me a favor: be the bigger man and talk to him for fuck’s sake!” Cas scrubs a hand over his face and shakes his head.

“He called actually,” Castiel mumbles, causing Gabe’s head to perk up, “today. Right before I left to meet you.”

“And you spoke to him?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great,” Gabe says. “Wait, you’re not smiling? What am I missing here?”

“He still wants to be friends, but…” Cas growls in frustration, “I said no. I said we can’t.” Gabriel’s expression falls and he drags his hands over his face.

“Jesus Christ, Castiel!” He groans.

“This isn’t your life!” Castiel snarls, finally having enough. “So what if a couple of your parties are ruined? Do you know how… how much pain I’m in? There has been an, an… aching hole in my chest for six months and there is _nothing_ I can do about it.” Gabriel’s face softens as he listens.

“What about bond blockers?” He offers quietly.

“We’re not mates!” He exclaims. “How am I supposed to block a bond that isn’t there?”

“How do you know it’s not there?” Gabe asks, looking back at Castiel sincerely. Castiel tries to answer but stops, not sure what to say.

“Because…” he begins, “because if it were, he’d feel this too.” Castiel shakes his head and rises from the table, leaving his cooling coffee where it sits.

“I need to get some air,” he says, throwing on his coat. “I’ll give you a call later, alright?” As he turns to walk out, Gabriel calls after him.

“I’m putting you down as ‘confirmed’ for New Year’s.” Castiel stops without turning around, closing his eyes in defeat.

“Gabriel,” he warns.

“I’m just saying,” Gabe offers. “You’re already down as attending, you might as well come.” Cas turns and looks at his friend, who is concentrating on his drink.

“It’ll be good for you,” Gabe mutters. “Get out of the house, a couple hours of distraction, spend some time with your friends.” He looks up at Cas, “just think about it, ok?” Castiel sighs in resignation and nods. He turns and heads out the door, zipping up his coat as he walks into the frigid winter air.

 

*******

 

_“... And welcome back to New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. I’m your host Ryan Seacrest…”_

Dean slumps down into his couch as the TV blares in the background. His whole apartment smells warm and inviting, thanks to the cran-apple pie currently cooling on the stovetop. He’s happy to avoid the crowds and the cold this year, choosing instead to watch the ball drop and enjoy the fruit of his efforts.

A part of him wants to run up to the roof of his building with a 6-pack, but he quickly pushes the idea away, as well as the painful twinge he feels at the memory of last year.

Cas had made it very final. He had got what he wanted from Dean (which apparently hadn’t been good enough for a second go-around) and then cut him loose. Dean knows he should feel angry about this. He should be furious with Cas for using him, but he just can’t. A part of him, a large part, won’t allow himself to stay angry as Castiel, no matter how much he’s been hurt by him.

Dean sighs and grabs his laptop from where it sits next to him on the couch. He opens it, perching it precariously on his thighs, lazily browsing the internet. He scrolls down his facebook feed when he spots a familiar shot of Sam and Gabe’s apartment.

“New Year’s Eve is in full swing at Chez Milton-Winchester,” the caption reads. There are a few shots of the food and decorations. Dean recognizes a few of the guests scattered throughout the photographs, but stops when he sees one familiar, tousled head. Gabriel hasn’t bothered to tag the photo, but Dean doesn’t need it to know exactly who it is.

Castiel is ladling himself a cup of what looks like punch. He is smartly dressed, in a tailored vest and dark grey button-down shirt. He looks good, very good, and the sight depresses and infuriates Dean at the same time. He hastily shuts his laptop and stands from the couch, grabbing the remote to flick the TV off. He is beginning to feel claustrophobic in this place and needs to get out for a bit, get some fresh air.

He hastily dresses in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt and throws on his old leather jacket. He slips out of his apartment and locks the door behind him before rushing down the stairs and into to cold of the evening.

 

*******

 

“Hey, Cas! You came!” Same greets cheerily as he opens the door. He envelops him in a giant bear hug and takes his trench coat from him.

“Gabe didn’t think you would make it,” Sam says as an aside.

“Well, I did,” Cas replies. He glances around the room. He’s a bit early, but there is already a good-sized crowd milling about. He sees Gabriel across the room, animatedly talking with a small group of people who abruptly burst out in laughter over some joke he told. He spots Cas and raises his drink in greeting.

“Make yourself at home,” Sam offers. “We have hors d'oeuvres on the table near the kitchen, and the bar is by the window. Oh, and you need to try Gabe’s punch! It’s some sort of special mixture he came up with for tonight.” Castiel smiles and nods as Sam goes to put his coat away.

Castiel crosses the room toward the punch bowl. He dips the ladle into the concoction a couple of times before scooping up a glass.

“Smile!” He hears Gabriel call out. There is a click followed by a flash. Castiel frowns, knowing he’s going to end up on Facebook in a few minutes. He takes a sip of the punch, wincing at the excruciating sweetness that is Gabriel’s M.O. He scans the room, looking for a familiar face among the crowd. He sees Meg and Benny, curled up around each other, and crosses the room to talk to them.

 

*******

 

Dean walks leisurely down the street, in spite of the biting cold. He forgoes the Impala, knowing that traffic and parking are going to be ridiculous tonight. The bitter wind whips around him and he pulls his jacket tighter. He shoves his hand in his pockets, hoping his gloves from last year would still be in there, but his hand wraps around something soft and knitted. He pulls out a dark beanie; Dean recognizes it as the one Cas made him for Christmas last year.

He tugs it down over his ears and continues down toward the “L” platform. As he ascends the stairs, he considers where he actually wants to go. The bars on Division will be overcrowded if they are not already at capacity. He doesn’t feel like dealing with knothead, fratboy alphas in Wrigleyville. He thinks for a moment about calling Aaron, but he remembers how sullen he looked when Dean told him that “they could still be friends.”

With a roar, the trains careens into the station. The doors open and Dean steps inside, instantly relaxing in the warmth of the car. The train moves forward and Dean shifts with it as it speeds along the track in the dark.

The truth is, Dean knows where he wants to be: with Cas, at midnight, kissing him like his life depends on it. He knows that despite everything that happened, he still cares about Cas as a friend. He misses their friendship more than anything, but he doesn’t think he’d give up their night together to get that back. Being with Cas, touching him and falling asleep with his knot still locked inside of him… it was the best moment of Dean’s year. Hell, the best moment of the last five years!

Dean looks up to see a young couple, no older than 22, pressed up against each other, leaning against the train door. They kiss gently and Dean can’t help the soft whine rising up from deep within him.

He wants that with someone… no, he wants that with Cas. He wants their friendship, but he wants _that_ as well. He wants to be touched and kissed and loved…

“Holy shit,” Dean mutters is shock. He’s in love with Cas. He is in love with Castiel Novak. Something inside of Dean snaps and he rushes off the train at the next stop, running through the station to find the red line.

 

*******

 

A horde of waiters begin dispensing glasses of champagne as midnight approaches. Castiel stands alone against the wall. Meg and Benny disappeared an hour previously, no doubt to have sex in one of Sam and Gabe’s spare rooms.

He can see Sam’s head sticking out above the crowd, Gabriel no doubt attached to his hip. A waiter offers up a tray, and Castiel carefully extracts a champagne flute from the group. In a second, he tips back his head and drains the glass.

He hates New Year’s Eve.

All at once, the large room seems too crowded, the air too stuffy, Castiel’s suit too restricting. He spots the patio balcony on the other side of the space and immediately crosses the room to get to it, snagging two more glasses of champagne off another waiter.

He steps out onto the balcony, assaulted by the smell of smoke and ozone. Castiel quickly chugs both glasses; frowning at the taste and remembering that he doesn’t actually _like_ champagne. He leans over the rail, gripping it tightly. The icy metal rail numbs his fingers and Castiel relishes in the pain of it, anything to distract away from the constant pain Dean left.

He lifts his head and looks out over the horizon, the city skyline lit up beautifully and casting a purple haze into the clear winter sky. He lets go of the rail and rubs his hands together, trying to regain feeling in his fingertips. He glances through the pane glass window, grimacing at the strained smiles of the faces in the crowd.

Castiel looks at his watch and checks the time. 11:58. He knows if he leaves, Sam and Gabe will give him hell about not staying until the New Year, but Castiel doesn’t think he can handle this much forced cheer right now.

He slips back through the door, warmth rushing over him. Gabriel is standing on a table, belting out “Let It Go” at the top of his lungs; at least he and Sam are both distracted enough so that they won’t see Cas go.

He maneuvers through the crowd, but just as he gets to the entry way he stops dead in his tracks.

There stands Dean, looking the same as he’s always looked: leather jacket, worn jeans, untucked flannel shirt and a beanie (the one Cas made him, he notes) pulled down over his ears. Cas swallows hard, wondering if the uncertain look in Dean’s eyes mirrors his own.

“What are you doing here?” He asks. Dean looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere. Cas tries to scent the air, but the overwhelming smells of the party drown everything else out.

“I came looking for you,” Dean finally answers. Castiel can admit to himself that hearing Dean’s voice in-person causes something inside of him to uncurl and relax.

“What do you want, Dean?” He says stiffly.

“I’m here because I love you… I want to tell you I love you,” Dean stammers out. Castiel didn’t realize how badly he’d wanted to hear those words until that very moment, but he can’t allow himself to get caught up again. Not after last time…

“Dean,” Castiel starts, “you can’t just do this.” He tries to move past him, but Dean grips his arm.

“Do what?” He asks. Castiel turns to face him in exasperation.

“Look, I know it’s New Year’s Eve, I know you’re lonely, but you can’t… You can’t just come here and say that kind of stuff and expect everything to be ok.” Castiel pulls his arm from Dean’s grip and tries to move forward, but Dean blocks his path.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean says seriously. His green eyes are bright and shining and the cold from outside has brought flush to his cheeks that Castiel just wants to kiss away.

“That’s not how it works,” Cas mutters.

“How does it work?” Dean asks, his voice rising to compensate for the sound of the crowd that has began counting down to the new year.

“I don’t know,” Cas says, shaking his head. He doesn’t know; he’s never known. Voices shout in unison, counting backwards from 10.

“How about this?” Dean asks. “I love that you are incapable of ordering off the menu…”

_9, 8..._

“I love that you enjoy putting together that shit from IKEA because you see it as a puzzle...”

_7, 6…_

“I love that you have the most twisted theories on Star Wars I have ever heard, and you will defend them to the death…” Castiel feels tears pricking at his eyes. He clenches his fists, forcing himself to keep his resolve from waivering.

_5, 4…_

“I love that at the end of the day, I can still smell your scent on my clothes and it is… amazing. Best thing on Earth, in fact. I love that you are the first person I want to speak to in the morning and the last when I go to bed at night.” Dean takes a step forward as he shouts over the rising noise of the crowd.

_3, 2, 1…_

“And it’s not because I’m lonely,” Dean yells over the cheers of “Happy New Year”. “It’s because when you realize you’re in love with someone, you want to spend the rest of your life with them and you want ‘the rest of your life’ to start right that second!” Castiel feels a single tear drop down his cheek. He and Dean stand like statues amidst the energy of the crowd.

“Why do you do this?!” Castiel demands, hands flying out in frustration. “Why? You come out here and say this… wonderful shit and what? You just expect me to fall into your arms and say I love you too?” Dean looks at Castiel carefully before giving a small shrug and a hesitant nod. Castiel laughs breathlessly

“You asshole.” There’s no fight in Castiel’s voice and the only thing he can do is reach out, pull Dean into a fierce kiss. The moment their mouths meet, it’s like a dam breaks within Castiel. Every moment of need and longing he’s felt over the past half-year comes pouring out as he kisses Dean. Castiel feels lightheaded with the scent and taste of Dean surrounding him. He growls softly into his mouth, eliciting a desperate whine to rise from within Dean. Castiel pulls back, nuzzling against Dean’s neck, inhaling the spicy-sweet scent that has haunted him for months.

“Love you so much,” he murmurs, desperate to get the words out, to let Dean know the feeling is mutual.

“Cas,” Dean whimpers, stretching his neck out further, baring it for Cas. He plants a string of soft kisses up the tender skin and over his jawline.

“We should probably go,” Castiel mutters, summoning as much rationale as possible. “Otherwise I might mate you in the middle of this room.” He feels, rather than hears, a soft laugh rumble in Dean’s throat. Dean’s hand wraps around his as he takes a step back.

“Let’s get your coat, alpha,” and, good lord, Dean might never know exactly what that does to Cas. They walk down the hallway, looking for the room where Sam stowed the coats.

 

*******

 

“Happy New Year,” Sam murmurs, leaning down to kiss Gabriel.

“Happy New Year as well, Samsquatch,” Gabe replies sweetly. They clink glasses and Sam quickly drains his champagne. He scans the room, grinning brightly as their friends welcome in the new year.

Sam’s gaze lands on Castiel pulling his older brother in for a passionate kiss. He smiles to himself and nudges his mate.

“Gabe, look,” he says, gesturing in their direction with a champagne flute. Gabe stands on his tip toes, looking above the crowd to catch sight of Cas and Dean wrapped around each other.

“About damn time,” he sighs, smiling up at Sam. “You definitely owe me $20 this time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam groans warmly. They watch Dean and Cas separate and move toward the hallway. “Do you think they’re going to get Cas’ coat or to have sex?” Gabe tilts his head as he considers the question.

“I’m kinda thinking both,” Gabe replies.

“Yeah, probably,” Sam agrees. A waiter passes by and Sam picks two more champagne glasses up off the tray, handing one off to Gabe.

“Cheers,” Sam says, clinking their glasses once more.

“To true love,” Gabe responds.

  
  



	12. Epilogue - Lucky to be Coming Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean start their own New Year's tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title come from the song ["Lucky"](http://youtu.be/acvIVA9-FMQ) by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat

**1 year later.**

 

Castiel can’t believe he is doing this, but a promise is a promise.

“We could still go streaking instead,” Dean says, grinning at Cas inspite of the shiver running through him. Castiel raises a questioning brow at his mate.

“How about no?” Castiel says. He stares out at the frozen lake before them, watching the large chunks of ice drift across the water. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Because,” Dean says, stripping off his thick down coat to reveal his bare chest, “it’s a New Year’s tradition.”  Castiel’s eyes fall on Dean’s body automatically, admiring the soft freckled skin quickly texturing with goosebumps. He notices his bite on Dean’s neck, laying opposite to the previous one and smiles at the sight, comforted by the reminder that yes, he is actually mated to this amazing omega.

“Yeah, but don’t people normally do these for charity or something?” Castiel asks, reluctantly stripping off his own coat and setting it on their blanket.

“Polar Plunges aren’t exclusively charity events,” Dean counters as he slips off his sweat pants and boots, revealing a pair of boxers covered in a mistletoe pattern.

“Not if you have a deathwish,” Cas snorts. He checks over their set-up once more. The blankets and towels for once they’re out of the water are ready. They have a thermal bag full of heat packs and hand warmers, as well as two full thermoses of cocoa (for Dean) and hot tea (for Castiel). Castiel slips of his own sweatpants and shoes to reveal plain swim trunks. Dean slips a “Happy New Year” crown on his head and hands one to Castiel, who just gives him a withering look before shaking his head no.

“Party pooper,” Dean grouses. He swings his arms out, stretching them out wide. “Ready?”

“Not even close,” Castiel deadpans. Without warning, Dean takes off across the sand toward the frozen lake, sending Castiel chasing after him.

“Holy shit!” Dean screams as his feet touch the water. He keeps going, yelping at every icy splash that hits his skin. Castiel hisses loudly, instantly losing feeling in his feet as he enters the water.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Dean cries out as he rushes hip deep into the water. He dives down, disappearing beneath the surface before coming back up, skin noticeably redder. “Out! Out! Out!” Dean runs past Cas in the opposite direction. Cas dives down, breathless by the shock of ice cold water. He comes up out of it, surprised that the air actually seems warmer than he’d expected.

Castiel runs as fast as his frozen legs will carry him toward their blanket where his mate is already toweling off and wrapping himself up.

Castiel wraps a thick towel around his body, drying the freezing water from his skin.

“Take off your suit, Cas,” Dean instructs. “It’ll only keep you colder.”

“And get arrested for indecent exposure?” Castiel mutters through chattering teeth. “No thanks.”

“Put your sweats on!” Dean throws him his pants and a hot pad. Castiel slips off the icy swimsuit and puts on his sweatpants. Dean hold his own blanket wide, inviting Castiel to join him. Castiel snuggles against his mate, the shiver fading away as they share their body heat.

“Better?” Dean asks once Cas’ teeth stop chattering.

“Mmm-hmm,” Castiel answers, snuggling deeper against his mate. He nuzzles against Dean’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent deeply. There is another scent layered on top of his normal spicy-sweetness and Castiel chocks it up to the cold and the lake water.

“You want your tea now?” Dean asks. Cas nods and Dean leans over and grabs up the thermoses, unscrewing the small teacup off the top of Castiel’s and handing it over. Castiel grabs the extra blankets, tossing them over his and Dean’s legs. They sit cuddled in their nest of fabric, enjoying the sunrise over the lake.

“Happy New Year, Cas,” Dean mumbles between sips of cocoa.

“Happy New Year, Dean,” Cas answers, planting a soft kiss on Dean’s cold cheek. He pours a second cup of tea and sighs heavily. “Does that _have_ to be our tradition?”

“Yup,” Dean replies with a smirk, “unless you can find someplace that does skydiving in December… In Illinois.” Castiel snorts and shakes his head.

“You didn’t happen to bring food, did you?” Cas asks.

“I think I have some of those ginger cookies you like,” Dean answers after thinking for a moment. “They’re in my gym bag.” He points over Castiel to his left. Cas reaches over and finds the bag. He digs through it, looking for the cookies, when he stumbles upon an envelop with his name on it. He frowns, noticing that the envelope is open. He slips it from the bag and glances a peek inside.

Castiel feels his mouth go dry.

“What is this?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Dean glances over to what Castiel is holding, a minute amount of interest crossing his face.

“Oh yeah… that,” he says absently. “I was going to surprise you with that later… uh. Surprise.” Castiel looks at him dumbstruck and then back at the envelope, pulling out the filmy piece of paper inside.

“Are you serious?” He asks, face like stone. Dean grins at him curiously.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “You’re happy, right?” Castiel stares at him wide-eyed before something inside of him snaps.

“ _You Idiot_!” He shouts, throwing the blankets off of him and jumping to his feet. “You’re pupped and you still insisted on going through with this fucking polar plunge nonsense?! What if you… damaged something? Hurt the pup, Dean?” Castiel gesticulates, waving the ultrasound photo in his hand wildly.

“Cas, Cas, calm down,” Dean laughs, reaching up to grasp his his frantic hands, infuriating Castiel even more. “It’s alright, ok? I checked with a doctor and everything. As long as the exposure is brief, the pup is fine.” All of the anger instantly drains from Cas and he drops to the ground, scooping Dean up in a tight hug and pressing his nose into his neck.

That was what he smelled before: _the pup_.

“How far along?” Cas murmurs, voice muffled.

“Ten weeks. Yesterday,” Dean answers.

“We’re having a pup? For real?” Cas giggles in disbelief. Dean laughs and nods enthusiastically.

“Damn straight,” he replies. “We’re going to be parents.” A choked happy sob bubbles up from within Castiel, and he can’t control the joyful tears running down his frosty cheeks.

“Aww, my sappy alpha,” Dean murmurs. Castiel pulls back, but he can see tears threatening to escape Dean’s eyes as well.

“We need to stop crying or we’re going to get frostbite on our faces,” Cas mutters. Dean nods and gets to his feet, pulling up Cas with him.

“C’mon, let’s get home,” Dean says. “I think a hot breakfast, hot shower and hot sex are in order.” Castiel can’t control his grin. He cups Dean’s faces in his hands and pulls him in for a passionate kiss.

“You’ll make me the hash browns the way I like?” Cas asks hopefully as they pull back.

“Burnt to a crisp, with grilled onions, cheese and sausage gravy, on the side, drenched in sriracha.” Dean answers on rote, “of course, I will.” They pack up their blankets and bags, hauling everything across the icy sand and loading it into the back of the Impala.

“So how do we want to tell everyone else?” Cas asks, leaning back in the passenger seat. They drive through the city back to their apartment, hot air blasting through the vents. Dean shrugs and squeezes Cas’ hand.

“Your call, Alpha,” Dean says. “What are you thinking? Ordering a cake from Gabe? ‘Congrats on a successful pupping.’” Castiel snorts and shakes his head.

“No, I was thinking at brunch on Sunday,” Cas offers, “when the waiter asks you how you want your eggs, you could say ‘fertilized.’” Dean laughs and slaps Cas’ shoulder.

“You goof,” he mutters happily.

“ _Your_ goof,” Castiel corrects with a lovesick grin, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder as they drive.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone so much for their support and comments and for reading. I couldn't have done it without any of you!
> 
> A special thank you goes out to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for her non-stop support and hosting numerous 1K1Hrs. You rock!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


End file.
